Aus der Traum
by YoBeezy
Summary: Gilbert had but one dream as a child; to be a good brother. And it's not to say he didn't try, but when the unstoppable force of conscription came calling for him, he knew then that his dream was over. Not even he could protect Ludwig from the shame and the pain that came with war, a reality that would haunt him long after the blood had been spilt.
1. Kapitel Eins

**Kapitel Eins.**

* * *

1954.

The surname Beilschmidt once occupied a city called Bernau. And even though Ludwig, the last scion of this house, still lived near Berlin, he had promised himself he'd never return to his old home. Or at least, whatever dredges still stood left over from the war.

It was a morning in mid January now. The fifteenth of the month to be exact. Ludwig stood in front of a calender, adorned with pictures of landscapes painted by some long lost Italian painter. His eyes were focused on a single date, three days from now. _He would have been thirty-one this year,_ he thought to himself, _just like he would have been thirty last year._ The tall man sighed, turning away from the wall with his hand to his head. He didn't know why he tortured himself like this. But he did it the same every year. Whenever Gilbert's birthday would come around, he'd make himself something special for dinner, not really pretending he was in the company of his parted brother, but more for the sake of the memories that once were. It was always the same, and each time he'd go to bed with a headache and nothing resolved or eased.

_Maybe this year, _Ludwig turned towards the window. _Maybe this year I'll go out for your birthday bruder. Have a beer or two in your name. You bastard._ A smile nearly touched at his lips. He wasn't kidding himself. It was three days away and already he could feel the headache setting in.

Ludwig lived alone. He had for quite some time now, for such a time that he was rather used to and even comfortable in this quiet solidarity he had settled into. He didn't have much of a choice though. His parents had died back in 43' from a bomb raid in the city. And his brother, well, he couldn't quite say. Gilbert left for the war in the year of 1940, and after Ludwig left Bernau, he never heard from him again. Thirteen years had passed and still to this day Ludwig had convinced himself his brother had faded in a blaze of glory, like he always spoke of doing. With the exception of the dog, Ludwig kept his company to himself. No friends, no girls. But it wasn't bad. Ludwig had a big mind, and he spent most of his free time wound up in thoughts that wouldn't have meant anything to anyone but himself and the ghosts from his past.

He sat himself down on a chair by the window he had been staring out of and pulled his coffee cup towards him. It was a quiet day in mid January. A day where he could recoil back into years past with nothing to stop him but the slow moving effects of the day's time. And that's exactly what he chose to do.

* * *

1934.

"The mighty fatherland. Blessed be, Deutschland, above everything, above everything in the world!" Gilbert cried out over the voice on the grainy old radio that sat on the wood stove. His hands were fisted and he beat against the arm of the chair he sat in, his pale hair wild and his eyes wide and determined. "When for protection and defense, it always takes a brotherly stand together!"

"Stop that," his mother scolded before clicking the knob on the radio and shaking her head. "You know I don't like that."

"Because you're a traitor to your own blood!" Gilbert rolled out from under his mother's quick hand, avoiding the firm slap to the back of the head he would have received. He hit the floor with a heavy thud. "Father will have ya shaken for that woman!"

"Don't speak to me like that in front of your brother!" Though she sighed in exasperation she knew her son well, not even a pipe beating would shut him up.

"Aw but mum, he's not even listening." Gilbert fell forward onto his hands and knees, crawling close to the six year old blonde boy that sat underneath the window sill with a school book spread on his lap. "Are you listening Lud? See? He's doing homework."

His mother picked up a sock from the floor and threw it in the basket that occupied her other hand. "Something you should be doing also." Gilbert sat himself next to his younger brother and kicked out his legs, he waved his hands at his mother and piled on excuses before she eventually gave up and moved on to continue her laundry. When he heard the door shut he scrambled upwards, turning the knob on the radio until the static cleared and a distant voice filtered in. It spoke words of political oaths and recognition of the new Fuhrer, all nonsense to Ludwig who spared a single look up from his book to examine his brother. Gilbert sat on his knees, his elbows on the arm of the chair and his chin perched on his thin hands. His mouth was parted open, dazzled by the words Ludwig doubted made much sense to his older brother either. He watched for a good moment before bending the corner of his page and closing his book.

"Bruder, come play with me, I'm tired of sitting in here all day." He pushed his book to the floor and stood up, dusting his pants off with small hands. His platinum hair fell in his face and he impatiently pushed it back. "Hey, did you hear me? Turn that dumb thing down!" At this, Gilbert cast a flat look over in his brother's direction.

_"You're_ the only dumb thing in here, did you know that? You should be listening to this too, father said it's important."

"Yeah, well mama said she didn't like it, so play with me or I'll tell her you're still listening."

Gilbert snorted, "I'll hit you if you do. I'll make you cry." He turned back towards the radio, edging closer till his face was only inches away from the peeling mesh panel that adorned the front of the box. Ludwig sighed, turned to look out the window and frowned. It was a nice day out, a little cold but for early August that wasn't bad. His small hand pressed up against the window longingly and he sighed again, this time louder in hopes that his brother would hear. After a second failed attempt, he turned and crossed his arms.

"You said you would."

"When? I don't 'member saying anything like that. Liar."

"You said it last night. You said, 'Ludwig, tomorrow we'll play ball if the sun comes out, we'll play as much as you like."

Gilbert turned his face up to consider and then with a straight face said, "I said no such thing." He closed his eyes pompously and tilted his head up momentarily before flashing a wide grin at the impatient sound that emitted from the younger boy's mouth. "Fine, okay, I 'member! But we're only going to play as much as I like, alright?" Ludwig smiled and clapped his hands together.

"I'll get the ball!" As he ran off into their bedroom, Gilbert turned towards the radio. Father said it was important. Father said it wasn't only his future, it was Ludwig's future too so he'd better listen good. But Father wasn't here anyways so Gilbert turned the knob and went to join his brother in the other room. After all, he was still only twelve years old.

* * *

Helena Beilschmidt watched from the kitchen window as both her boys ran in circles, laughing and yelling. She wished deeply that they could stay so young forever, untouched by the harsh influence of the world, but she knew better. Her husband would be coming home from work soon, bringing that dreaded influence with him. It would be another night of bitter propaganda, with Gilbert hanging on every spoken word and Ludwig silently watching, learning. Her heart ached. She busied herself with dinner preparations, trying hard to nurse her long tendered wounds until the sun began to set and she called her children in to wash up.

It wasn't until she was laying dinner on the table that her husband, a tall man by the name of Peter, pushed through the front door. "Helena, where is Gilbert?" He noticed his boys hadn't greeted him at the door like they usually did.

"In his room," she brushed her hands off on her apron. "Why, is something wrong?"

"No, no," he replied offhandedly. "I just wanted to tell him that he's going to be moving groups this week."

"What do you mean?"

He stepped into the kitchen, kissed his wife on the cheek and surveyed her days work laid out on the table. "They're shutting down his boy's group. He'll be required to register with the Hitler Jugend next year when he's thirteen. So he'll be transferred for the remainder of this time into Deutsches Jungvolk. Anton is moving his boys too."

Helena repressed a shudder. "I don't like that man, his groups or teachings, he's-"

"Please," Peter held up a hand, his stern features pulled into a tight frown. "You'll be right to keep your thoughts to yourself on this matter Helena. I've already made the decision."

"They aren't just your children, _Peter._" She replied chidingly in return. "I don't want to see my boys shipped off to war, and these damned groups, all they're doing is teaching him how to kill. I won't stand for it." Peter stepped closer, his voice growing colder.

"You don't have a damn choice. Whether you like it or not that boy-both boys, will serve this country. Just as I did when I was younger. You should be proud of them!" Helena turned her cheek, that familiar pain was back again. "He'll be taught the proper skills to succeed. You can hold him back from these groups all you like and when he's serving, he'll die within the week. Is that what you'd like to see instead?" His hand hit the counter next to her.

She remembered for a moment how her husband once was. A good man with an infectious laugh, whose ease had pulled her in the second they met. He never had been aggressive. Not until he had a son to call his own, it was then he had changed. And now, as Gilbert got older, these moments came by so regularly they were nearly routine. He would get mad, he would shake her, sometimes slap her until she saw it his way. He was a stranger.

"He'll die anyways," she said woefully. When his hand made contact with her shoulder, and he squeezed so hard she knew her pale skin would bruise in brilliant shades of violet days later, she took a sharp breath inwards.

"He'll fight for the future of his country. And you will accept it. The Lord gave you two sons for a reason, don't try to pull them in to your female notions. Gilbert is a smart kid, Ludwig too. Now, this conversation is over. Do you hear me?" Helena opened her eyes, she hadn't realized she'd even closed them. In the doorway to the kitchen she saw Gilbert, his eyebrows pushed together and a worried frown on his lips. His hand rested on Ludwig's shoulder, the youngest boy wearing a nearly identical expression.

"Yes Peter. I hear you." He let go and she turned away. She didn't want her boys to see her cry.

Dinner was, as she had expected, full of conversation that made her ill. She picked at her plate, every now and then looking up to survey her children. Peter spoke loudly, joyously about the new boy's group Gilbert would be moving into, and every now and then Gilbert would ask five questions right after the other, so eager he was forgetting to eat. She looked over at her youngest son, his bright blue eyes were affixed to hers and she quickly looked away. Clearing her throat, she spoke. "Gilbert, eat your dinner. It will be bath time for you soon after."

"Aw, come on, can't it wait till morning?"

"No, I said-"

"It's fine, it can wait for morning." Peter cut in, he took a drink of his liquor and didn't bother looking up. A sudden guilty expression crossed Gilbert's face but he refrained from speaking. Helena waited in silence until everyone had finished before she stood to clean. Peter moved the boys into the sitting room next to the radio and she worked slowly until a small hand was grabbing at her apron.

"Goodnight mama," Ludwig said quietly. Helena bent down on one knee and even with her soap sodden hands, she pulled her youngest into a tight hug.

"Goodnight, Mausi. Sleep well, okay?"

"Okay." She pulled away and watched him walk away. He stopped though in the doorway, hesitated and turned around. "Mama...is Gilbert going to be okay?" Her hand fluttered to her chest and she forced a smile.

"He'll be just fine, as will you, don't worry about the things your father says. He doesn't mean it." Feeling a little more confident, Ludwig nodded then walked away.

But his father's words never entirely left him. Only a few minutes had passed since both Gilbert and himself had crawled into bed, the door was shut and with the curtains drawn, it put them in total darkness, but he knew Gilbert wasn't sleeping yet. "Bruder?" Ludwig said in a very small voice. It was silent for a long second before an even smaller voice answered back.

"Hm?"

"...Are you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Of the things papa talks about. You know, the war, and...killing."

Gilbert rolled over, facing the wall, he didn't answer. It wasn't until Ludwig whispered his name once again that finally he got a response. "You shouldn't be worrying about things like that."

Ludwig cradled his pillow closer, his voice tinged with what could have been mistaken for excitement. "But he said that I would go to war too one day-"

"-you won't," Gilbert said firmly, no longer trying to whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'll win the war myself if I have to, you won't have to fight for nothin'. I promise." Ludwig felt the taut muscles in his arms relax and he slunk back down beneath the covers. His eyes strayed from his brother's back to the ceiling and he stared until his eyes stung. He didn't reply and soon he heard the familiar sound of a light snore coming from across the room. And yet, as long as he laid there staring out into the darkness, still nothing made sense. Maybe it never would. Or maybe by the time he'd figured it out it would already be too late to stop it.

* * *

Time moved by at an alarming rate, the seasons passed and the propaganda that littered the airways became almost like a new religion in the year of 1935. Gilbert had moved up in the boy's rank, now a self declared valuable member of the Hitler Jugend, and Ludwig was forced into long lonely evenings spent hunched over peeling school books while his brother was away. The days began to blend together, a repetitive blur set in fast motion until one day it came to a sudden halt with a single sound.

It was startling. Ludwig dropped his book and snapped his head towards the back of the house. His mother's cry sent him running through the open door to his room, his small hands pushing off the walls to gain momentum. When he stopped in her doorway, chest rising in panic, he saw his mother in a pile of despair. Her hands were clutching at a yellow paper, her mouth open in a silent gaping breath. She cried out again, and standing so close, he could feel the tragedy that came off her in waves. And so, he cried too.

"Mama," he shuddered. He was too old to be crying like this. If Gilbert had ever seen him in such a sniveling state, he surely would have had a good laugh. "Mama, no." He caught in his words in a whine, but it was useless, he was sinking to the ground too. He had never seen his mother like this, she was always the pillar of strength that kept the family from falling, not the one who fell first and frankly, it terrified him. "Mama,"he repeated. Suddenly, as if the sound of his fear struck her, she looked up and clutched the yellow paper close to her chest.

"No, no, don't cry. Come here." He crawled over to her and she pulled him in her lap. Her damp cheeks brushed against his platinum hair and she took back a shuddering breath that had been robbed of her just moments before. "Shh, calm down." Her slender hands took to his cheek and she breathed him in.

Later that day, the news was spoken on the radio. The process of conscription had been reinstated, a sign that forebode not only the prospect of a foreign war but that those who had already had in depth training were going to be the first ones to go. Ludwig watched on shakily. For the first time Gilbert had been left without words. He listened to his father speak, about the war, about pride, about glory, with the realization of the situation finally sinking in. He had five years left till he was made into a soldier, just like daddy had always wanted.

He went to bed that night without dinner.

When Ludwig entered the room sometime later, the silence that had settled was unnatural and tense. "Are you awake?" Ludwig whispered as he closed the door. No answer. He walked over to his brother's bed and placed a small hand on Gilbert's head. He sniffed at the sudden touch.

"What do you want Lud?"

"...are you crying?" It was obvious by the small tremor in Ludwig's voice that he was worried about his brother.

"No."

"Yes you are. What's wrong with you?"

"I said I'm not crying. Go to bed." The older boy reached up and swatted Ludwig's hand away. "You always ask so many damn questions, it's annoying."

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Gilbert turned to look over his shoulder, squinting in the dark to make out his brother's tiny figure. Finally, after a moment of scrutinizing, Gilbert scooted over and opened his blanket for the boy. They laid there quietly, stiffly, until slowly Gilbert moved his arm over the young boy and pulled him close. And then, without warning, he pushed his head into Ludwig's hair and began sobbing.

"I don't want to die." His breath hitched and he shrank into his brother's back tighter. "I'm so scared, my teacher likes me, he say's I'll make a good soldier, but I don't wanna be one Lud, I really don't." The blonde boy reached over and wove his fingers in between Gilbert's. A small comfort, but it must have made an impact because Gilbert took a deep breath and his tears stopped. They stayed like that for such a long time that Ludwig thought Gilbert had finally fallen asleep, until his voice indelicately whispered in close to Ludwig's ear. "If I leave...I want you to know something."

"Hm?

Gilbert closed his eyes, briefly relishing the warmth the small body next to him seemed to be radiating. He had time still, and a part of him thought that things could easily change, problems could be resolved, and maybe he stood a chance of being able to live out a long boring life. But in the event that it didn't happen like that, he had to make sure Ludwig knew the complete and honest truth.

"I won't be fighting for this country," he nuzzled his brother's head sweetly. "No, I don't care about that. I'll fight for you. And when I win and come back, I promise, I'll never make you worry 'bout me again."

* * *

**A/N:** So, I regret to say that I'll be starting work soon so this story probably won't get updated super fast like I always intend to. But it will get updated, I promise. As regularly as I can manage, especially if I start getting more readers. But anyways. Thanks for reading :


	2. Kapitel Zwei

**Kapitel Zwei.**

* * *

1937.

Gilbert sat on the floor, his long legs spread out in front of him. His face was drawn into a precarious expression, unreadable to most but not to Ludwig, who watched from a close left. "Bruder," Gilbert gave a menial nod, not saying anything rather than acknowledging that he had heard the inquiry. "Can you help me with this knot?" His eyes blankly stared forward but with a grunt of good will, he blinked a few times and turned towards the now nine year old boy.

"What kind?"

"Rolling hitch," Ludwig dropped the small one inch round stick and red string in his lap and brushed his hair back in frustration. "It keeps slipping."

"Here," Gilbert took the tools and slowly looped the end twice, hooked it through and pulled it upwards. "See, it's not so hard." He handed it back and sighed. "How is your class going?"

"Alright. I'm not very good at most of the exercises though." Gilbert snickered and rolled back onto his hands.

"You're nothing like your big, dear bruder are you? I don't blame you, not everyone can be as awesome as me." He sighed and looked over his younger brother with a smile. "Mum's making me drop you off tonight on my way to group. Big mistake. I was thinking we'd visit that candy shop down the alley instead, I've got a few loose notes to spend, what do you think?"

"Skip class?" A furrowed line appeared above the younger boy's brow. "Papa would have you for that."

"What's _he_ going to do about it?" Gilbert snorted loudly. "Might as well have some kind of fun before they ship me off to battle, yeah? They'll have my balls so tightly cupped I won't have room to even breathe."

"You think you're ready for it then?"

"For what?"

Ludwig looked over with a flat expression on his face. "For battle. You hardly act scared like you used to. I wouldn't blame you, you know." A sudden frown washed over Gilbert's usually cocky face and he took a long breath in.

"I hate when you do that," he said finally as he turned around to prod at the stoking fire. He shut the small door and shook out his paling hair.

"Do what?"

"Make sense like that. Lud, you're only nine. Why don't you try acting your age for once, you know, pretend like you still don't know what's going on. It's like you're old or somethin'."

Ludwig's small fingers unknotted Gilbert's work and he pulled the string away, preparing to try again to make better his rolling hitch. "One of us has got to do it."

"So no candy shop then?"

Ludwig smiled to himself and shook his blonde locks back into his line of sight. "No Gil, I think not."

* * *

It was six o'clock, the night sky darkened early and a light scatter of snow began to fall in the late September evening. Gilbert was still by the bedroom window, his hands were wrapped around a scarf and his eyes were dull with burdened thoughts. "You ready?" Ludwig asked from the doorway.

"Huh?" Gilbert turned around and his shoulders dropped. "Yeah, I guess." He looked over his shoulder one last time before he pulled away and tied his scarf tight around his neck. "Let's go."

"I wish they'd cancel these meetings on nights that it's snowing. It's too cold," Ludwig complained as they walked a steady pace down the road. He pulled his jacket up over his chin and breathed into his gloved hands. "I don't stand a chance at this knot work if I can't even get my hands to move." He was met with silence. Looking over, Gilbert was somewhere else mentally. He made the movements to keep walking but his face was so passive had his eyes been shut he could have been peacefully at rest. Ludwig didn't bother talking for a while more, he knew these days Gilbert spent a lot of time in his own mind. And he had learned that sometimes for Gil, this kind of accepting silence was a bigger comfort to him than any words he could have spoken. They walked for a long while like this, more than thirty minutes, and when they finally reached the edge of the town square, Gilbert came to a sudden halt.

"You don't want to skip class?" Ludwig looked up at his brother and frowned, Gilbert really wasn't going to let this go. But there was something different this time. A strange and almost pleading look behind those striking, nearly scarlet eyes of his. Something that would never be admitted, but it was nearly desperate. Gilbert didn't want to go to class, something was wrong. But Ludwig never asked. Instead he answered with a sigh.

"What if papa finds out?"

"I'll tell him it was my idea!"

Ludwig shook his head, "it _is_ your idea." Feeling like he'd gotten the response he wanted, Gilbert lit up with a grin. "Fine, fine, but you're buying me chocolate, the dark kind."

"You were born without taste," Gilbert laughed though and clapped his hand behind the halo of snow dusted platinum hair that crowned around Ludwig. "But alright kid, you've got yourself a deal."

As they started walking again, this time toward the left side of the the square, the tension that had been flirting with Gilbert suddenly seemed to vanish. He was more talkative now, his eyes bright and his hands animated. It was refreshing. Ludwig had been quite worried for his brother these days. "Mum didn't know it but I took these notes from her dressing gown last night. We should have, hm," he looked up, calculating in his head. "At least enough for two each. We can take some home, stash it in the closet." He laughed to himself and nudged the younger boy. "I'm proud of you Lud, I didn't think you had a naughty bone in your body. I was scared you'd just snap in half you're so tightly wound."

Ludwig chose to ignore the teasing coming from his right, he looked on trying hard to hide the small smile that was tugging at his lips. _Two more years, _he thought to himself and suddenly the smile was gone. _Two more years and they'll take you away._ It was hard to not have these recurring thoughts, you couldn't walk down the street without seeing at least five different fliers about the war that had yet to be declared. What will the country become without soldiers to keep it strong? How will the children be happy without an able bodied man to serve their way into a welcoming future? It was all the same. And even though Gilbert tried hard to keep a strong facade up, Ludwig could still sometimes hear his brother crying at night when he thought the youngest was asleep. And yet, there was nothing he could do to help him. No condolences could measure up to the fate he was facing. _You could die on the battlefront, but at least you've got dinner on the table tonight. _No, it didn't make sense to even try. Which only made it that much harder to bear.

"Ah! There it is, come on Lud, let's go waste some money." Ludwig pulled his blue eyes up, the sign bore the title 'Adelheid's' and even from the street side he could feel the hypnotic smell of a burning fire and the pulling thought of sweets. Gilbert pulled him through the door, ignoring the small yelp of surprise that flitted from the younger's mouth. But that was all quickly forgotten as he stumbled in through the door. The lights were bright and inviting and a plethora of bright and fragrant candies blinded him momentarily. Before he could even sort his thoughts, something firm was being pushed into his hand. He blinked down, looked at the wrapper and then gaped up at his smirking brother.

"This one's too expensive, I'll pick something else."

"You sound like mum, it's fine."

"But what about you?" Ludwig's hands wrapped around the candy and he pulled it in to his chest. Truth was, he hadn't had candy for a long time. Their mother was strict about that kind of stuff and their father hadn't brought treats home now since the times had turned all complex and confusing. So it was hard to hide the glutinous approval purring in his stomach. Gilbert sank to one knee in front of Ludwig and grinned brightly.

"I'm your big bruder aren't I? If you learn anything from me, let it be to never question nothin'. When someone wants to buy you something you better damn well let them. Got that?" He mused a slender hand through Ludwig's hair and stood back up. "But that doesn't mean I'm not getting something for me, hold on." Ludwig watched his brother walk away and suddenly the overwhelming urge to cry overcame him. He hugged his chocolate closer and quickly tried to push away the emotion. He didn't want Gilbert seeing him like this, especially when he'd finally found a better mood to be in.

Ludwig let himself be swept back into the sweet lull of the shop, better to distract himself. When Gilbert finally had him stumbling over to the register, he finally felt safe of those traitorous feelings. They left the shop soon after, Ludwig holding his chocolate and three peppermint sticks. All Gilbert had gotten for himself was a small pack of cinnamon gum and a hard candy disc that tasted like cloves. There was a large sitting area, surrounded by trees and a few dim streetlights in the center of the square that they migrated to afterwards. It was cold, but the prospect of warming candy was enough to push the reality of weather aside. Ludwig pulled himself into a bench, almost instantly regretting the action for the seat of his pants were suddenly frigid, but his attention was pulled elsewhere when the light of a small flame danced in the corner of his vision. "Since when do you smoke?"

Gilbert shook out the match and dropped it, exhaling a large plume of smoke, mixed with his own breath, into the night air. "Since my soul was sold to the mighty Duetschland. Want a drag?"

"No thanks," Ludwig looked away, his stomach churning again. "Is this...is this what this is all about?" The question came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it and instantly, he regretted it.

"You haven't learned anything have you?" Gilbert grudgingly took another drag. "Always with these dumb questions. If it'll make you happy, sure, this is why I'm doing this. You don't understand yet," he pointed the cigarette towards the young boy. "And I hope you never do Lud. But the more I think about it and the more I hear all the shit that comes out that damn radio and-" his eyes fell for a slight second, "all the things father says, I realize, I never really had a choice. My whole purpose, can you imagine, to die fighting for a cause I don't even believe in? It's not fair"

"You're wrong." Gilbert stalled mid drag and shot a puzzling look at his brother. Ludwig took that as an opportunity to continue. "And you're dumber than I thought if you truly believe that." Before the silver haired boy could take offense and make a scene, Ludwig tore open the wrapper to his chocolate and broke a generous part off. "I know you don't like dark chocolate that much but here, it will taste good with your cigarette."

"I...uh-"

"Take it!"

"Alright,alright." Gilbert placed the end of his cigarette between his lips and gently took the piece of candy from his brother. "So if you're so smart," he said while turning over the sweet. "What is my purpose then?"

Ludwig greedily placed a large bite of chocolate in his mouth and momentarily took a moment to enjoy the savor of it. He leaned back, not caring as his back was made stiff with the cold metal of the bench, and he smiled. "Your purpose is to stay here with me and eat candy till we're sick. That's all."

Gilbert laughed and sat himself next to the young boy. "That's sounds pretty lousy actually."

"Only an adult would say something like that," Ludwig replied coyly. He couldn't help but laugh when a deeply wounded expression crossed his brother's face and Gilbert forced the candy into his mouth hungrily.

* * *

"Happy birthday Lud, you're finally into the double digits now, maybe you can finally start sleeping in your own bed again!" Gilbert laughed madly as a deep flush crossed Ludwig's cheek. It was true, he had gotten rather used to sleeping with his brother for a good while now, but to be fair, the weather was getting colder and his blankets were only getting thinner.

"Oh Gilbert, don't tease your brother on his birthday," their mother chimed in from across the room. Her tone was soft though and she gave them both a gentle smile. She had aged visibly in the last three years. Her hair, once a beautiful glowing blonde had been reduced to little more than a dull flaxen color. And her face had thinned out considerably, something that surely was the result of all the stress she put herself in these past few years. But to Ludwig, he knew she'd never stop being beautiful in his eyes. "How does it feel Mausi?" Ludwig blinked, and a small smile escaped him.

"The same as being nine, really." He looked over at Gilbert, who was busying himself with getting into the small dinner cakes Helena had spent all day working on. "Except Gil suddenly seems that much more annoying."

"I heard that, brat." Gilbert said through a guilty mouthful. He shot a playful glare towards Ludwig and the small boy giggled in delight. Everything was good today, the only thing missing was yet to walk through the door. But he shouldn't have spoken too soon for his mother stilled, maybe paled a shade or two, and she cleared her throat.

"Boys, your father is home, greet him please." She shifted her gaze over to the older boy and scowled, "and Gilbert, get out of those! You're such a wicked boy, you know that?"

Gilbert winked and closed the refrigerator. He turned on his heel and followed Ludwig down the hall. A chilling wind swept around the two of them as they opened the front door, and in a small flurry of snow, Peter stepped through with a box in hand. "My boys, good to see you! Come, come, you're letting all the hot air out." He shook his light brown hair out and handed the box to Ludwig. "For my smallest son." He turned towards Gilbert, "hang my coat, will you?" Without a word being said, Gilbert circled his father and took the coat he shrugged off. He eyed the box curiously before moving down the hall towards the closet.

"Can I open it?" Ludwig asked, looking up at his father expectantly. Peter winked, an action that was so similar to Gilbert's it was almost eerie, and he put his hand on Ludwig's shoulder.

"Of course, that's what it's for. But come to the sitting room first." Peter stepped around the boy and moved into the next room, he placed a soft hand on Helena's arm and bent low to kiss her from her seat. Ludwig placed himself back by the stove and from the corner of his eye he caught Gilbert wordlessly staring from the archway, a strange expression on his face. "Go ahead, boy." Ludwig looked down, the box looked harmless. It was heavy, but nothing of intimidating size. It was in an all white box, no bow, no ribbon. But something lurked in his stomach, something uneasy. His small fingers pried at the side and gently, he took the lid off. Gilbert gave a low throaty murmur at the contents.

"Oh, Peter..."

"What do you think, son?" Peter leaned forward in his seat, his hands clasped together and the eager look of a young boy etched into his face. Ludwig pulled from the box something cold, something hard. "It's a Luger pistol, used during the first war. Very hard to come by."

Helena's hands were drawn into tight little fists. "We cannot have this in our house, Peter, you know as well as I do, owning a firearm is strictly forbidden."

'Don't worry, it wouldn't be sitting here if it wasn't allowed," Peter brushed his hair back and his smile faltered only slightly. "It's in my name, but Ludwig is old enough to start training with something like this. Please, don't put a damper on this, look how happy he is." Truth be told though, Ludwig was far from happy. That writhing feeling in his gut had suddenly grown to be twice its size, holding this weapon, a used one that had inflicted bloodshed prior, felt heavier than a two ton stone. He wanted nothing more but to put it back into the box and simply hand it back, but instead he forced what appeared to be more like a grimace rather than a smile.

"What did you say to get that?" The room came to a sudden still as Gilbert shifted and his cold eyes were narrowed at Peter. "Not even an old Luger would be permitted to own to just anyone, you had to make some kind of claim for that." Matching his gaze, Peter stood up slowly from his seat.

"What are you implying?" The older man marched over to stand in front of Gilbert, he looked down on the boy with a smear of disdain. For a cold second Gilbert kept his mouth shut, he looked away and crossed his arms in defense. "No, no, please. Enlighten me. I'm rather interested to hear what you would have to say on this matter." Helena squirmed, her arms at the ready to leap up and Ludwig suddenly felt chilled. Gilbert was not one to dismiss such an obvious challenge, even if it had come from his own father. The smirk that fleeted across Gilbert's thin mouth was one that wouldn't be appearing again too soon.

"That you sold out your own son, _again."_

In that single moment Helena cried out, Ludwig dropped the box to the floor and slid out of his seat just as Peter's large hands wrapped around the front of Gilbert's shirt and forced him into the wall, a rush of breath left Gilbert's mouth. "You'll be wise to keep your damn filthy mouth shut! The nerve of you," Peter growled in close. "To even suggest that I'd bring harm to my boy!" Gilbert's slender hands came up suddenly and wrapped around his father's. He was short of breath and feeling bruised from the force of the attack, but it would hardly limit him.

"No, not at all, the Aryan conquest will bring nothing but good fortune onto him-" He was pushed once more into the wall.

"Shut your damn mouth before I teach you to never open it again!"

Gilbert grinned wickedly, his scarlet eyes were bright and wide, mad almost. "Enlighten me, _father!"_

The moment Peter's fist collided with Gilbert's eager face, Ludwig let out a scream. He didn't mean to, but he also didn't mean to rush at his father either. "Let him go! Stop, papa! Stop hurting him!" His tiny fisted hands beat against his father's back, as high as he could reach. But it all seemed to go unnoticed, Gilbert's face was met once again with the firm knuckles of their father. Ludwig fell back as his mother bolted forward, her own thin arms wrapping desperately around Peter's. The sudden contact seemed to bring Peter out of his fury and almost as if he had been shocked, he let go of Gilbert's shirt. "Bruder!" Ludwig scrambled to his knees and crawled to his older brother who had began to slip down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.

"Never mind, Helena, get the hell off of me!" Peter took a step back, looked down at Ludwig and then quickly turned away. "I'm leaving."

"Where are you going?" Helena's face was damp and she was shaking, but she still tried to cling to her husband. "Peter, it's snowing, please."

"Nein, just let me be," he hissed. Peter tore his arm from his wife's grip and he stole into the hallway to fetch his coat. Ludwig turned and watched his father stride forward, he forced the keys from his pockets and then, wordlessly, he left into the night. A small groan brought his attention back forward.

"That bastard," Gilbert shook his head a little bit and groaned again, tenderly touching his lip where a large split had found its place. "Gottverdammt! I hope he never comes home." Ludwig's hand reached out to rest on Gilbert's leg and the older boy gave a small smile. "Bet you won't be forgetting this birthday will ya?"

"Oh, shut up. You're bleeding."

"Here, here." Helena bent down on one knee with a damp cloth. She put it to Gilbert's face and he hissed. "Shh...you know, you shouldn't have encouraged his temper like that. You know how he is."

"A good for nothin-"

"Gilbert, dear. He's still your father." He made a begrudging sound and winced when Helena pressed too tightly. "Here," he took the rag and leaned his head back. Helena got up and unknowingly began pacing. She was worried, Peter rarely ever stole off in such a rage like he had. But maybe that wasn't the biggest problem after all, her mind was focused more on something long term. Her blue eyes darted to the floor, to the box that sat forgotten to the right of Ludwig. As much as she wished the night hadn't taken such a dangerous turn, a small part of her was relieved that the words she had been harboring inside for so long had finally been let out by someone other than herself.

"Ludwig, take your brother to the bathroom and help him clean up, will you dear?" Gilbert looked up from behind his rag, he didn't need it and she knew it, but he took one look at her face and nodded. As soon as they left the room and she heard the bathroom door close, Helena took the box from the floor and hastily made towards her room.

She would hide it somewhere not even Peter could find, just in case.


	3. Kapitel Drei

**Kapitel Drei.**

* * *

1954.

Ludwig had spent the day doing a handful of menial tasks. He had scrubbed the floors, replaced the wood for the fire by the door, sorted out the contents of his fridge and made room for the case of beer he would later remind himself to fetch. After everything had been cleaned (it didn't take long, Ludwig was a naturally clean man), he stood amongst the order of his home and tried hard to think of something to better occupy his time. Truth be told, he wasn't ever the type to sit around and relish a day off from work. All this thinking had burned him and had only killed a good hour or two, good for nothing, really.

What he really needed was air. Lots of it.

Ludwig whistled, "Aster, come." The large golden lab came trotting from the bedroom and judging by the look on his face, had been sleeping only moments before. He knelt down, running his hand over the dog's coat affectionately, "how does a walk sound?" The dog skirted around Ludwig's legs as he stood, brimming with excitement. It wasn't often Ludwig found himself feeling suffocated in his house, in fact his home had become much like his temple, away from the world, away from anything he didn't want. But today it was different. He couldn't seem to get his coat on fast enough.

January in Germany is cold, the snow flirts with the brisk wind and it toys with anyone brave enough to leave their homes. Ludwig kept up his pace though, kept his blood moving and each frigid breath that filled his lungs left his body with a sigh of relief. He walked with his head down, occasionally catching fragments of conversations left in the air by the strangers that strolled around him. Each shop he passed by was brightly lit and tempting passersby with warmth, noise and occasionally alcohol. Had he ever really entertained the idea of having friends, maybe it could have been him sitting on one of those stools, surrounded by laughter and good company. But instead he passed by each building with a hard face, there was just no room for that in his life. It was a selfish thought but making friends and upholding relationships was all just a great game of chance and sacrifice, and Ludwig really never was one for such childish pursuits.

He turned the corner and crossed two more blocks until he came to a small liquor store. He tied Aster to the lamp post and entered the store, it wasn't warm and inviting like the other shops were though, no, this one had a strange air of loneliness about it.

"Well, haven't seen you in a while handsome." Ludwig forced a smile at the clerk, a slender woman with red hair, elegantly put up into a coil atop her head. She grinned broadly, showing him every one of her perfect teeth.

"Hallo Elfi, good business?"

"Oh Lud," Ludwig winced at the name, he really hated that title. "You've seen the weather outside, no one's coming in to buy alcohol when they've got a perfectly good bar stool waiting for them. Well, no one but you anyways."

He strolled down the aisle, picked up a small box of his favorite beer and walked it back up to the counter. "As usual." He pulled a couple notes from his pocket and placed them on the counter. Elfi grinned.

"Would you have the heart to deny me three times if I asked you to join me for a drink after my shift, instead of this?"

"Sorry, I've got plans tonight."

"Not with another woman?" Ludwig looked away awkwardly.

"Not quite."

Elfi looked up in thought, her slender hand tapping on the counter. "You know, men come in here and always ask to take me out. And I always say no. I'd never say no to you." She shot him a serious look. "I'm beginning to wonder if you're even interested in women-"

"Please, Elfi, it's difficult to explain-" she leaned over the counter, her bosom resting on the case of beer still sitting there. Coyly, she smiled. The type of smile he could tell won over men on a daily basis.

"Well, you can explain all you like over a drink at The Leicht, at nine. I won't take no for an answer." Ludwig shifted uncomfortably. "You don't want news to spread that you stood up Elfi Hauser do you?"

"I suppose not." She beamed at this.

"Then, I'll see you there. Don't be late!" With extra exuberance, she handed him back his change and saluted him out the door. Aster gave a happy cry as Ludwig advanced, despite the grim expression painting his young face. There was no way out of this, he knew, and he cringed as he thought of how long this night was going to be.

The walk home seemed to drag on and the case of alcohol under his arm only seemed to get heavier. And even when he walked through his front door, the thought of drinking churned his stomach. _What a mess this is,_ he thought with a sigh. A small voice in his head though rang out, reminding him that maybe it would be good for him to socialize, to see what all the normal masses did on a typical Friday evening. Maybe it would help him blend in more, he surely was sick of all the staring. But even with that lingering thought, it took ever fiber of will in his body to begin getting ready for what was sure to be a headache inducing experience.

As he dug through his closet to find the proper outfit, he wondered what Gilbert would have said to him. His older brother was, as he himself had once titled, a woman's dream. And he surely would have shaken his head at Ludwig's attitude towards the whole thing. Gilbert would have liked Elfi, or her breasts anyways. Ludwig smirked to himself but the feeling was so foreign to his face that he quickly wiped it away. _Focus, focus, you're going to need a proper state of mind to handle this Ludwig,_ he reminded himself before giving up his closet searching, he would start with something small instead. Something he knew he had the proper brain capacity to approach at the moment. A shower. He could handle that.

* * *

1939.

It was a little past midnight in a town near Gleiwitz where a man sat hunched over a bar top with a half empty glass in hand, lazily humming along to the musical program that was playing over the radio. "Hey, hey," he said, bringing his head back up in a clumsy motion. "Refill my glass, that's your job isn't it?"

The barkeep turned from washing his cup and he directed a cold stare at the man. "You drunken bastard, you haven't even finished that one yet."

"Huh?" The man looked down at his glass, mumbled something and then took a large swig. The bar wasn't full, only about seven people sat scattered throughout the room. Each one them either talking in quiet, suspicious voices or laughing so raucously it was hard for the barkeep to stay focused. The man at the bar impatiently slammed his glass on the counter, "there, it's done! Pour me another then, I'm waiting!" The barkeep turned to spit out a nasty response when a strange sound caught his attention. He swung around towards the radio. The music had stopped, and as everyone in the room suddenly turned to see what had caused the program to be intercepted, a voice rang out through the speaker.

'Attention citizens of Gleiwitz and the surrounding areas, this is not a drill. All those within a fifty kilometers distance of the border of Gleiwitz need to return home and lock their doors. I repeat, this is not a drill. Polish troops have invaded the area and are approaching, we're unsure at the moment wh-'

And then everything went silent. For a minute, nobody spoke. The silence was almost deafening and the radio cracked every now and then but for all it was worth, nobody was there to broadcast anymore. The barkeep turned on his heel and glared at the room, "you heard 'im! Get home, now, before the Poles decide to come and attack us here too!"

He had to admit, he was almost impressed when every drunk man in the room shut their mouths and did what they were told.

Seven hours later, in Bernau, Ludwig roused from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, wondering why his bed seemed so cold. Turning over, he frowned when he saw Gilbert wasn't there. Still a little disoriented, he sat up and forced himself out of bed and into the hallway. Everything was quiet except for the sound of something grainy and muffled in the next room. It had to have been the radio. He stepped quietly through the hallway and into the living room where Helena and Gilbert were both perched on the edge of their seats wearing nearly identical expressions of concern. "What's wrong-"

"Shh," Gilbert hissed. He held up a finger and didn't look away from the source of the noise. Ludwig turned and pushed the dial up to a higher volume.

'-at six this morning, the morning of September first, German troops have been deployed and have invaded Poland. In response to an attack of irregular Polish soldiers on the Gleiwitz radio tower sometime in the early hours of the day, an official declaration of war had been made by the Führer at exactly 4:17 this morning. It is reported that around two of the morning, a Polish anti-German diatribe was broadcast over a mass radius. When officers arrived to the station only twenty minutes after the broadcast, the body of an unnamed Polish man was found dead with over four points of entry marking his body. Reports will continue as we receive more information on the Gleiwitz incident and our current standings in Polish territory'

"Turn it off," Gilbert said sharply. Ludwig pushed the knob down and it clicked, sending the room into a thick silence. The oldest boy looked at Helena, and she returned the gaze, her fingers pressed to her mouth in worry. "So," Gilbert finally said. "This is it, huh? We're at war now?"

"What does that mean?" Ludwig asked dumbly from across the room, he was met with a dark glare from his brother.

"You know exactly what it means." The younger boy's heart sank and he looked away guiltily.

"...Oh, Gilbert.."

"No, stop. I don't want to hear it." He stood up and brushed an angry hand through his silver hair. "I'm not hearing any of it anymore." Gilbert tore off into the hallway, grabbed a thin coat and slipped it on.

"Where are you going?" Helena clung to the seat of the couch, it was obvious she was ready at any moment to leap and stop her son from leaving.

"Sorry mum," Gilbert didn't look back as he opened the door. "But I need a cigarette." He slammed the door shut and Ludwig stared after him wordlessly. It wasn't until Helena cleared her throat that his attention was pulled back.

"You should" she dipped her head and from where he stood he could see the tremors in her hands. Her eyes were wide open staring at the floor and for a moment she didn't breath. When she shook her head and pulled herself back together, she wiped angrily at her face. "You should get your coat on an-and go after him. He needs someone to talk to and I-I probably won't be of much help." She turned away then, her thin, shaking hand covering her trembling mouth. Ludwig didn't respond as he turned towards the hallway to fetch his coat.

Outside, the sun was bright. It was late summer then, the day was preparing to warm itself up by means of the sun, tempered only by the cool Baltic breeze that whirled against the morning. Ludwig squinted and held his hand up, he looked around momentarily before lowering his arm and quickly making his way over to where Gilbert stood.

Under a tall, shady tree, Gilbert smoked with a shaking demeanor. He didn't say anything as Ludwig came to stand before him. "I-I'm so sorry-"

"Save it," Gilbert said hotly. He turned away and took another drag. "I mean, we all expected it. Didn't you?" The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I've only been seeing propaganda shoved in my face every time I leave this god forsaken house, father only speaks of it every time he gets a chance to open his fat mouth, and-" He sucked in an angry breath and shot a look at his brother before breathing back out. "Sorry."

"No, it's alright." Ludwig tapped his hands together and then tilted his head. "Can I...have a drag?"

"Mum will kill me."

"Yeah, well mama isn't looking." Gilbert paused and then shrugged his shoulders. He held out the cigarette between two fingers and Ludwig took it apprehensively.

"Have you ever even smoked before?"

"No," Ludwig replied. He held the filtered end up to his mouth and looked up at Gilbert. The oldest boy smirked and nodded his head, so he stuck it firmly between his lips. His chest swelled and the second he felt the smoke infiltrate his throat he pulled it out and began coughing. He desperately waved the cigarette back in Gilbert's direction. In between coughs and tears, he looked up, "that's awful!"

"Lots of things are awful, Lud. Welcome to life." Gilbert carried on as if nothing had happened and he stared over past their small yard. "I know you're worried."

"And I know you're terrified, what of it?" Ludwig wheezed out. He bent over, still trying to compose himself.

"I'm going to die out there. I don't stand a chance. They'll give me a gun and because I'm a straight shot, they'll send me right out to the front lines. Like an easy-ow!" He quickly withdrew his arm, cradling it to his chest. "What the hell?!"

Ludwig pulled his fist back, shaking it slightly. "Shut up, I don't want to hear you talk like that! It's not going to make anything better!"

"Well it sure as hell isn't going to make things worse!"

"Not to you maybe," Ludwig turned away angrily. "But it will for the rest of us." Gilbert stopped and stared at his younger brother.

"Aw, no, come on Lud, don't cry. I didn't mean it."

"If you have to go the least you could promise me is that you'll try to fight. You can't ever give up, alright?" Ludwig spun back around. His face was damp and his cheeks were flamed with frustration. "And besides, I'll be right behind you-" Gilbert dropped his cigarette and he bent forward, grabbing the front of his brother's coat.

"No, you don't talk like that. I told you, I'll win the whole damn war alone if I have to. You're not going anywhere, hear me?" His voice was fervid and low, and Ludwig searched his brother's eyes desperately before pushing Gilbert's hands off of him and flinging himself forward. He embraced his brother tightly, clinging desperately to his jacket, so very afraid to let go.

"Just don't be stupid Gil. You'll come back home, I know you will." Ludwig was crying again, but he didn't care. "You don't turn eighteen for four more months, and you don't know, maybe there won't be a war anymore." Gilbert leaned his head in towards Ludwig's. He didn't have the heart to contradict him, but he knew, this was going to be a long war. And four months were going to go by quickly, whether he liked it or not.

"...Maybe." Gilbert pulled the boy away. "You're right, okay? Come on, I'm hungry, how about you?" The young blonde nodded and sniffed and Gilbert couldn't help but smile down at him. He'd sure miss him, probably more than anyone else. He'd miss him a lot.

When they both came back in the house, Helena wasn't in the room. So Gilbert took it upon himself to prepare breakfast for the two of them. About thirteen minutes later, he sat at the table with two plates full of eggs and bread. "We'll be getting ration cards soon, I'd enjoy this meal if I were you. But eat it before mum comes back in, she'll be right pissed we ate all the eggs."

"Thanks," Ludwig murmured, poking at the food with his fork. He placed a large bite in his mouth and begrudgingly ate it.

The day passed by with little occurrences. Ludwig lent his time to his books while Gilbert wrote absently in his journal in between hushed conversations with their mother. It wasn't until almost six in the evening when Peter came home from work did the first mark of the war pay its toll.

"Helena, we'll need to go to the store first thing in the morning tomorrow." He said gruffly as he hung up his coat in the hallway. He walked back out with a small stack of different colored notes in his hand. Holding them up, he shook them and then proceeded to shake his head. "Ration cards, already, can you imagine? Boys, we'll be eating like the poor soon, get used to being hungry."

"How much have we got?" Helena asked, wringing a dish towel between her hands.

"Not much, most of the stock is getting pulled back into Berlin, but enough. It'll only get tighter though, so we'll have to be careful. What's for dinner?" They carried their conversation back into the kitchen and Ludwig shut his book loudly. Gilbert glanced up, raising his eyebrows.

"What's wrong, kid?"

Ludwig only shot him a condescending kind of glare before sighing and leaning back. He opened his mouth to complain about his sore back when a sudden wail brought him clear out of his thoughts. Gilbert took from his chair fast, his eyes wide and terrified and the same time Peter came storming from the kitchen, Helena right behind him.

"Wha-what is that sound?" Ludwig cried out, gripping the chair. It was unlike anything he had ever heard. The sound was that of a strange howl. It was low at first and then rose in a machine like drone, then it dropped again and repeated.

"Air raids? Already?" Ludwig had no time to question before his arm was being pulled up by his brother. "Cellar, now." Peter took control. He opened the front door and ushered Helena and the boys into the yard. He quickly came in front of them and led them to the back of the house where he unlocked and then flung open a thin metal kind of crawl door. A small ladder dropped down into the black depths and soon Ludwig found himself scaling it. It was cold inside and smelled of dust and mildew. He didn't like it. The door shut out any source of light available and as his family gathered he shuddered, he could still hear the droning of the siren even from underground.

"Are we-are we under attack?" He asked quietly from behind Gilbert. The older boy quickly grabbed Ludwig's hand and squeezed.

"No..." Peter responded. "I don't think so. It's probably just a test but I could be wrong."

"Why would they be bombing here?" Gilbert murmured.

"We're so close to the capital, are you really all that surprised?" Peter pulled from his pocket a small box and then groped around in the darkness for something. When he had found the small glass lantern, he lit a match and doused the room in a warm glow that was almost comforting.

"Mausi, are you okay?" Helena asked softly, dropping to one knee. Ludwig nodded and tried hard to not shake as her hand gently brushed his hair from his forehead. She looked up towards her oldest and her eyebrows pushed together. "And you?" The boy gave a quick nod and then turned back towards his father.

"This escalated rather quickly, don't you think? It was only this morning that we returned fire."

"That's war." Peter replied back apathetically. "Wait till you get to the field, it's much worse."

"Stop," Helena stood up suddenly. "I don't care what we speak about but I will under no terms allow that kind of conversation tonight. Is that clear?" She turned a bitter glare towards her husband and Ludwig took in a deep, bated breath. Under normal circumstances, Peter would have arose to the challenge. He would have said something cruel, lashed out and maybe even shaken her. But tonight something had changed in him and he only looked away. It wasn't an apology but it was a lot closer to any other kind of sympathetic reaction you could have forced from him. Gilbert noticed this too and his hand shut tighter around Ludwig's.

The sirens wailed for what could only have been fifteen minutes or so and as Ludwig left the cellar, he halfway expected to see fire and ash raining down from the sky. But there was nothing of the sort. The night was clear and the sky was so brightly lit with stars it bathed the entire street in silver. Everything had grown quiet and from across the street he could see another family emerging from their own cellars, looking just as perplexed as he felt. Was this something he'd have to get used to? A sudden pang in chest alarmed him and he realized he was still holding tight to his brother's hand. It was the only thing that had kept him composed, that whole time.

How was he to manage these kinds of things without his brother's presence to calm him? He couldn't fathom the thought. It seemed large and looming, terrifying and impossible. But at the same time, so did war.


	4. Kapitel Vier

**Kapitel Vier.**

* * *

1954.

"You look, well, very nice." Ludwig forced a smile as he spoke and Elfi nodded her head graciously in return.

"And you, well, you look okay too I suppose." She grinned at him and he flustered a bit, and suddenly was very aware that he might have been giving her the wrong impression. "So, have you ever been here?" She carried on casually as she walked through the door. "I heard they have an excellent Pinot Noir."

The bar was dimly lit, and he assumed it was intended for the ambiance but he only found it grating. There were enough people there for it be considered crowded but the two of them quickly pushed towards the back and claimed an empty table. "One glass of Noir then?" Ludwig didn't want to appear rude to her, after all Elfi had always been considerably kind to him, albeit a little bit of a flirt, but even to some extent he found it flattering. He played up the charm slightly, trying to imagine what any normal man would do in such a situation.

"Yes, please." He tapped the table once before making his way up to the bar. The bar keep, a dark skinned woman with dark, short cropped hair, smiled at him coyly.

"May I help you?"

Ludwig smiled back. Though he was careful to keep his charm at a minimum. He might not have been used to playing in the dating playground, but naturally, women flocked to him anyways. They always had. It was the Beilschmidt charm, Gilbert used to say that so often Ludwig was convinced his brother actually believed it. He cast a look back at the table where Elfi sat and he adjusted the collar of his shirt. "Er, yes. A glass of your best Noir and whatever is on tap for myself, thanks." She slid back, her hips moving in a rather dramatic manner and he forced himself to look away.

He was uncomfortable. There were so many voices and his shirt suddenly felt too tight. He only wanted to go home, get drunk by himself and then sleep it off until he had to leave for work the next morning.

But such it was not. The bar keep returned with his drinks in hand and he took them as quickly as he could with his head down. When he sat himself across from Elfi, she tilted her head and hummed. "You know, we don't talk much Lud. Maybe," her hand crept across the table and came to a resting stop atop his. "it's because you're not really the talkative type, hm?" Ludwig shifted, slowly slid his hand out from under hers and grabbed his beer. He took a drink and looked away.

"Something like that." A sigh escaped his lips and suddenly he felt guilty. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be with Elfi, and despite what he told himself he was plainly leading her on. The surge of it all took him suddenly and he couldn't stop himself any longer. "Look Elfi...I really appreci-"

"This is nice isn't it?" Elfi's eyes, similar to a color that was reminiscent to a jade stone, were focusing across the way. She wasn't listening. "I don't get out much, hours at the shop are always so unpredictable. It's nice to have some company," she slid her sights back over to Ludwig and smiled, something innocent and genuinely appreciative this time. "Especially with you."

Ludwig closed his mouth suddenly and smiled tightly, raising his glass he tipped it slightly, "I must agree with that, dear Elfi, thank you as well."

The night carried on slowly, but after a while Ludwig finally found himself not so tightly wound. Elfi was, to his surprise, a lot more complex than he had at first thought. She spoke of her childhood, of her dream to travel out of the country and in return, Ludwig listened politely. Dare he say it but he almost found himself enjoying the company of another person. It wasn't until the barkeep, a little less keen on flirting now that the hour had nearly reached two, interrupted them to say that the bar was closing did they realize how fast time had gone by.

"Did you see that glare she shot you? Oh, I don't think she likes you very much." Elfi laughed lightly, before placing a slender hand on Ludwig's shoulder as they stepped into the night. Her tinkling laugh escaped her lips for another moment in a frosted cloud.

"Me? Certainly not. I think it was _you_ she did not like." She gave a small mock gasp and then pushed him lightly, and he found himself laughing something rare and strong.

"Ludwig, you're something awful, you know that?" She inclined towards him, wrapping her arms around his own and leaning in. He could feel the lovely warmth she gave off, and suddenly, without thinking, he turned her towards him and pulled her close to his chest. She murmured with approval. "You're so warm, I liked it." Outside, beneath the orange glow of the street post, Ludwig lowered his mouth to the top of her head. He gave a small kiss and it felt good to be touching another living, breathing thing. He was tired of all the ghosts. "Ludwig?" Elfie said quietly, her voice like a quivering song.

"Hm?" He pulled away slowly, forcing his eyes back open as if he had been falling asleep. He held her out to arm's length and she looked up at him with a longing expression. He returned the gaze, feeling held in a trance that lingered into intimacy. His heart was beating so loud, he wanted to press her against it to muffle the sound.

"Kiss me, won't you?" Elfie stood up on her toes, flattening her hands against Ludwig's broad chest and she gave a small smile. Suddenly Ludwig was seeing her in a new light. She was as lovely as ever, bright and beautiful, how had he not noticed this before? Her touch was electrifying through his clothes and without thinking, his hands crept around her lower back and he pulled her in. The air was cold, but her mouth was warm against his. It was gentle, kind, scared and nervous. But he fell into it. And as her hands came to rest against the back of his head, he found himself burning from within.

It was his first real kiss. For so long he had found it difficult to be near another human being. He had so much pain and regret bottled up inside him, he didn't just fear for himself, he feared for them too. But in that moment, with his hands so eagerly wandering up the body of this woman he had never before given a second thought to, he found himself forgetting all that he harbored.

"Mm," Elfie hummed as she gently pulled away, her hands slithered round to his back and she leaned back into his chest. "It was as wonderful as I always imagined."

Ludwig didn't speak. Instead, he rested his head atop hers and shut his eyes. He didn't want this feeling to ever escape him and maybe, he thought, if he stayed quiet for long enough, it never would.

* * *

1940.

It was at the start of the new year that things began to get very cold and very dark, very quickly. Ludwig was in bed, being held tight around the middle by his seventeen year old brother. Both of them were shaking, mouth's tight and legs wrapped around each other. It was the worst winter in centuries, and families all over were feeling the overwhelming chill creeping through their bones, during day and night alike. "I-I can't s-sleep like this," Ludwig said faintly. His hands clumsily felt around underneath the blankets until they found Gilbert's. He interlaced his fingers and squeezed tight, trying to regain feeling in them.

"I know but you have ta' t-try." Gilbert bit back his own shiver.

The time was somewhere into the very late hours of the night, and this was the third day in a row that sleep had failed to find them. But that was hardly the unfortunate part. On nights where the cold was almost bearable, the air sirens took their place and wailed so loud that your heart was very near leaping from your chest. It had been four days since the last one went off, but Ludwig found himself sleeping on edge at all times regardless. And if that in itself didn't make for a miserable winter, the darkness sealed the deal. Blackout regulations had been quickly set in motion not long after they had first been issued their ration cards. As soon as the sun began to set, it was mandatory for lights to be out. Helena had covered the windows in a dark paint so that they could still salvage candles on special nights, but when candles weren't an option, they spent their nights plunged into cold, unfeeling darkness.

"I _am_ trying," Ludwig hissed quietly. His teeth chattered and he sucked on his bottom lip to make it stop. "Stop moving so much!"

"Well you're taking all the damn blankets!" They huddled in closer together. That night passed by slowly and sleep finally found them, but only for a few hours. They were both woken up in the early morning by Helena gently shaking them awake.

"Mausi, Gil, wake up. Come on, I need you to do something for me." She wrapped a thin, nearly tattered blanket tighter around her shoulders like a shall. Ludwig stirred but Gilbert only rolled over with an aggravated moan.

"What's wrong?" Ludwig asked sleepily. He squinted and tried to move his legs, but winced when they touched the frigid part of the sheets.

"We're out of bread-"

"Are you making bread for breakfast?" Gilbert said hotly from the side near the wall. "If not, then it can wait till later."

Helena frowned and stood up straight. "You didn't let me finish. We don't have any eggs or fat either. All we've got is a few cups of rice and two small potatoes. Not enough to feed us though. You need to run to the market." Gilbert rolled back over slightly, glaring from over his shoulder.

"What time is it?"

"Almost five, but if you don't get there early everything good will be gone. You can go back to bed when you come back." She left then, not waiting to hear the slew of crude things that came from Gilbert's mouth. When the door shut, Ludwig pried himself from the warm nest he had been nestled into. He jerked his leg back when his bare toes touched the floor, it seemed he had lost is socks in the sheets at some point in the night. He sat cross-legged on the bed instead, yawning and stretching before gently prodding at Gilbert's back.

"You're not gonna make me go alone are you?" Gilbert huffed and Ludwig rolled his eyes. "You're so lazy. The laziest person I've ever known. And probably ever will know too. You're a loud sleeper too. And you're bony-"

"Okay!" Gilbert whipped the blankets off of himself and sat up grumpily. He was squinting and his hair was pressed up into laughable angles. Ludwig snorted and yawned again. "You can sleep in your own bed tonight then!"

"W-wait!" Ludwig reached a hand out and gave a small laugh. "I was just kidding!"

The boys teased each other and laughed as they got dressed. Being that they were never a household with a lot of money, they layered on clothes until both were stiff and warm. Ludwig struggled to wrap a scarf around his face and Gilbert came behind him, sticking a small knit cap over his head and ears. "You'll need it."

When both boys were as secured as they were going to get, Helena greeted them at the door with a list and a small stack of colorful cards. She eyed them with a flare of amusement before giving each a kiss on the cheek. "Be safe. Get what you can and hurry home. It's not snowing yet but it'll be soon, I can feel it." She looked through the window glass with tight lips.

"Won't take longer than an hour," Gilbert sniffed. He dug his hands deep into his pockets and nodded at the door. Helena waved them off and then quickly shut the draft out. She'd have to reserve all she could, wood was a luxury to come by these days and the gas from the stove was too big of a risk to keep running through the day. She watched from the window as her boys got smaller and smaller, slowly swallowed by the early morning fog.

"F-fuck!" Gilbert squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his double-gloved hands from his pockets, he pulled his scarf up over his face. "It's fucking freezing!" Ludwig glanced over, having left the house with his scarf wrapped up around his face so that only his eyes could look out, only shook his head. He focused his attention back to the strange pale wonderland he'd stumbled into. Winter was always white, yes, that he had grown accustomed to. But this was a different side of winter than he'd ever seen before. A thick fog surrounded them, to where he could only see a few feet ahead of him and the buildings down the street only looked like distant smudges. Occasionally, the sudden emerging of slow and steady headlights would flash through the thick haze and roll past them and the faint fluorescent paint that flowed along the sidewalk for times of blackouts would catch his eye. But everything else seemed to be lost in the fog, it was eerie and he edged in closer to his brother.

Gilbert complained a lot the entire way down to the store, but Ludwig, knowing that Gilbert's eighteenth birthday was less than two weeks away, only nodded politely and occasionally gave his supporting two cents. They spoke of bad weather and good food that they hadn't eaten in what felt like years already. They talked about Peter and Helena and all the pretty girls that lived down the street from them. It seemed like such an insignificant kind of conversation, about nothing really, and as much as Ludwig knew that soon these moments would just kind of cease to be, he still couldn't bring the proper emotion to surface. He wanted to cry, he wanted to hold his brother tight, but the closer the impending date loomed over them, the more numb he felt.

Before these thoughts could start showing on his face and in his words, they reached the store. Gilbert scoffed loudly. "You've got to be kidding me," he groaned loudly, patting his bright pink cheeks with his gloved hands. The store's doors were wide open and flooding from the small shelter were women and men alike, noisy and demanding. At this rate, they weren't going to get a half an ounce of rice. "I've got an idea," Gilbert said quietly before counting the people that were starting to argue in front of him. He kneeled down, pulling his scarf from his face clumsily and he whispered something fervently into Ludwig's ear. Almost immediately, Ludwig pulled away, vigorously shaking his head, his eyes lit with fear and hot embarrassment. "If you don't do it, we're all gonna starve. Better them than us!" Gilbert hissed back. He pulled his scarf hastily back up before standing tall. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the list and small stack of cards and he shoved them in Ludwig's hands. Before the younger boy could protest any longer though, Gilbert strode forward and stood awkwardly in line with the rest of them. He slowly turned around, giving a small jerk of his head and a wink before he tapped on the shoulder of the towering man before him. Ludwig missed whatever Gilbert had said, but judging by the sudden smear of shock that took to the man's face, it was something offensive.

"The nerve of you boy, get tha' fuck outta here!" Gilbert suddenly laughed, that obnoxious kind of laugh and Ludwig shut his eyes. That idiot. This was the worst plan he had ever concocted yet. Ludwig couldn't afford to waste anymore time and he stuck the tickets into his pocket and ducked over to the other side of the crowd. He could hear more yelling and that cutting pitch of Gilbert's 'fighting' voice and suddenly, the crowd in the doorway to the market lurched. Ludwig tripped, catching himself on his knees. People were yelling and turning to see what the commotion was. Ludwig, though ignoring the throbbing coming from his knee caps, crawled forward past the people. He was still somewhat small for his age, being only twelve he looked more like a nine year old. Momma had always told him that he'd catch up one day, they all did eventually.

Someone cried out loudly from the street, what sounded like the words, "grab him!" but Ludwig only kept crawling forward. Gilbert might have been dumb, but he was smart enough to handle himself. Finally a break in the crowd opened up and Ludwig tumbled through. The layout was simple enough. The store, being as small as it was, had an attendant letting in only about four or five people at a time so as to reduce theft. And as soon as people were done and paid for, the next amount of shoppers would filter in. Though luckily for him, the only attendant at the counter that he could see was set in a slight panic, trying to call for help to see what all the commotion in the back of the line was all about. Ludwig bolted past, and he heard the unmistakable shout of a woman who had seen him. "No, no, no," Ludwig hissed. He darted behind a small aisle and crouched down, taking a small moment to peer around. His face must have drained instantly for he shook and steadied himself with a panicked breath.

The line was nearly out of control now. It was as if a small riot were breaking out right in front of him. He could see people who had been waiting at the front of the line pointing and yelling, calling out how treatment was unfair and children _weren't_ allowed inside in the first place. It lurched again and suddenly, a flash of pale hair stumbled forward with a crude shout. "What are you tryin' to start kid?!" One of the attendants had Gilbert by the arm, struggling to keep him away from the many people itching to fight him for whatever dumb thing had come from his mouth. Ludwig buried his head in his hands for a slight second before he stood up, he grabbed some things off the shelves, as much as he could afford to stuff down his jacket, and filled his pockets to the point of overflowing.

This was so dumb. If they were caught the price in fees alone would be unfathomable. Ludwig should have surrendered then, but a small part of him, the part that Gilbert alone had helped to shape, said that even if he surrendered now there would still be a price to pay. Ludwig stole to the next aisle over, fearing that he heard people coming towards him from the space over. He couldn't fight back if he was caught, the only ideal solution was to escape, without being seen. But for the he needed a commotion. He was about to wreck the jars on the shelf next to him when suddenly, a loud clatter came from the front of the store and people's voices were growing louder. It seemed that the crowd had broken free. Ludwig shrank down immediately and looked in between the wooden shelves, it was madness and with a cry, he fell back. They were coming straight for him. Men and women of all sizes flooded the store, their voices loud and their stomachs empty. They were truly desperate. They ignored Ludwig as they pushed and pulled things from the shelves, suddenly jars were falling all around them and glass was being sent through the air like small shrapnel. Ludwig was pushed violently into shelves, feeling the wall shudder beneath the constant pulling and prodding. He needed out. He reached out, made a fist around someone's shirt and pushed as hard as he could.

With the small second he could spare, he darted out from in front of them and took to shoving his way through the aisle. When he broke through the crowd, back into the front of the store, he spotted Gilbert angrily fighting with another patron. Not an attendant was to be seen. "Gil, come on!" Ludwig cried out as he stormed past the thinning crowd and towards the entrance. Gilbert looked around, spotted the panicked blonde and then gave firm shove to the man in front of him. He took to the street immediately after.

Ludwig couldn't recall when he stopped running. He heard his name being called, he heard in the distance the sound of sirens come belting from only blocks away and still, the sound of commotion and panic was flooding around him. Something hurt. He wasn't even sure in which direction he was headed until a pair of hands came and grabbed him by the jacket. The jars and packages still tightly held in his hands was released, everything fell into what he immediately noticed was fresh snow. The storm had already started.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Gilbert gasped. He stumbled to his knees and tore his scarf off. "God dammit, you've been running in the wrong fucking direction, what's wrong with you!?"

"You idiot!" Ludwig yelled back, his eyes squeezed shut and his arm throbbing. "You could have gotten us both killed, you didn't say you were going to start a damn riot!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"No, because you don't think, because you're stupid!"

"Hey-" Before Gilbert could yell anything back, Ludwig lunged at him, knocking both of them into a cushioned snow pile. It was cold but Ludwig hardly cared.

"You could have been hurt!" Ludwig's cheeks stung with the warmth of fresh tears. He didn't bother hitting Gilbert like he had planned to. Suddenly his energy seemed to leave him and he was but a small shuddering pile laying on top of his brother. Gilbert didn't say anything, still presumably shocked from the sudden strength he didn't know his brother even had. But gently, he laid a gloved hand atop his brother's head.

"I'm sorry Lud, I didn't know that was going to happen. Honest. I'm more worried about you. Are you okay?" Ludwig bit back a sob.

"My arm hurts, I think I got cut. They kept pushing me."

"Shh, okay, let me see." Gilbert rolled Ludwig over so that he was sitting on his lap, gently, he rolled up the several layers of clothing. It was just a small scrape, hardly any blood, but his pale, cold skin was bright red. He had exerted himself. "Look, no, look at it really." Ludwig spared a glance down and then nodded, suddenly feeling rather silly for his behavior. "We need to get home. Can you help carry this stuff?"

"Yeah, I can." Ludwig slowly pulled himself up. The cold sting of the snow was touching him through his three pairs of pants now and he shuddered. His scarf was soaked too, it was going to be a miserable trek home. "Mum's going to kill us." Ludwig finally said. Gilbert bit his lip and though Ludwig fully expected some biting sarcasm, Gilbert could only agreed solemnly.

"We started a riot, damn straight she will."


	5. Kapitel Fünf

**Kapitel Fünf.**

* * *

1940, January 18.

_Allet Jute ooch zum Jeburtstach, Gilbert!_

Helena was so proud of her son.

Gilbert had always been a difficult child, his voice always too loud, his motives too mischievous, but as she looked at him from across the small dining table on the night of his eighteenth birthday, she noticed now that her baby boy had finally become a man. It was a bittersweet occasion, for all of them, but Helena had tried her hardest to bring some joy back into their darkened lives even if it was only for a single night.

She had left early in the morning, before the shops were even open (she had learned not to send her boys out again for her), and came back home with what would make a very small but efficient cornmeal cake. She was short one egg and her sugar was running dangerously low but Gilbert was only going to have one eighteenth birthday. And she'd be damned if he didn't have a cake to eat on that day.

She worked hard, all day. Her hands were cold and shaking and the wind was tirelessly beating snow against her tar-blackened windows. It made the house a miserable, shaking place to be. So she sang to herself, loud enough where her boys in the room over could hear her. She didn't want them to be as miserable as she felt, not on this day. In the days ahead there would be much more reason to suffer, and the longer she could prolong it the better. So she sang loud and brightened the house with small candle stubs.

"What are you doing, get down woman!" Gilbert laughed as he walked into the kitchen, looking around with a soft and grateful expression. Helena huffed at him and taped the newspaper chain she had made to the wall near the ceiling.

"No one wants to go to a drab party," she sighed, stepping down from her chair and looking up with a shy grin. "What do you think, looks nice doesn't it? Maybe I'll leave it up."

"Looks great," he sat down in a chair and leaned back, earning a reproachful look from his mother. "Smells even better. You've sure been busy."

She turned away to check her cake in the oven. "Well that's my job as a mother, you two don't make it easy." She brushed off her hands on her apron and smiled, the cake was almost done, the decorations were up and Peter wasn't home yet. Things were off to a good start. "But I love you for it, it keeps me thin." Helena stepped over and kissed Gilbert on the forehead then smacked his arm as he made to light a cigarette. "Go outside with that!"

"But it's cold!"

"Then don't do it at all!"

"But mom, I'm an adult now, I can do what I like-ow!"

Ludwig laid atop his bed listening to the pleasant bickering of his family from through the thin wall. He had spent all day with Gilbert, talking and reading and laughing, but it still failed to take his mind off of the problem at hand. The boy, still twelve, looked over at the small side table in the corner where an open envelope sat. The letter had come yesterday and Gilbert still hadn't shown anyone but Ludwig. But the ink wasn't going to just disappear and neither was the short five months Gilbert had left before he was listed to leave. The boy took a deep breath and rooted his sights back at the ceiling instead. He wondered when Gilbert would tell the family. He didn't want to be there when his mother heard. His eyes were growing heavy as the hour slipped by him and eventually the sounds from the other room softly drifted away. The nights were getting harder on him and it seemed, only when he didn't want to, that sleep would find him.

In what barely seemed like moments to him, Gilbert stood above him shaking him awake. Ludwig took a second to gather his thoughts then sat upwards in a motion so fast it almost had him dizzy. "I didn't mean to fall asleep!" He hissed, swatting away his brother's hand.

"Don't worry, it was only a couple hours. And you looked really cute, mum didn't want me to wake you till dinner was ready."

"I'm sorry..." Ludwig shook his head. Stupid. Of all days he had to spend lazing around, today was certainly not an appropriate one.

"Really, knock it off. You didn't miss anything. Dad came home early," the look that crossed his pale features didn't go unnoticed.

"Did you-" Ludwig looked over at the side table. The envelope wasn't there.

"I had to. He asked." Gilbert shrugged and that sat himself down heavily next to Ludwig. "He said I'm lucky to have five months. He said," the boy made an unpleasant face, "the weather will be a lot nicer come June. Like I give a shit how the weather's gonna be. Honestly."

Ludwig stalled, pulling his knees up to his chin quietly and rubbing at his hair. "And mom?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes and smirked, "cried like a baby. Dad yelled at her and she stopped but she keeps hugging me." Ludwig felt his eyes fall out of focus and he pulled his knees in tighter. A gentle hand fell across his back, rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades. The movement was comfortable and familiar. "Lud, you've gotta knock this off," Gilbert said softly.

"I'm sorry," Ludwig murmured again, trying to regain control of his numbing emotions. "I know it's not helping you."

"Ah," Gilbert's palm fell to rest on the bed. "You hungry? It's dinner time." Ludwig nodded, quickly trying to correct his heavy brow before his mother got a chance to catch his worry. He stood up off the bed and waited for Gilbert before following into the dining room. The tension was thick, Peter was quiet, staring down at the table with a look of impatience and Helena was nervously fidgeting in her chair. Her eyes lit up when they entered the room and she quickly ushered both boys to their chairs.

Dinner was eaten quietly, with sparse conversation thrown across mostly between Peter and Gilbert. Ludwig listened half-heartedly, feeling a pang in his chest every time he felt something was alluding to Gilbert's future. He ate slowly, feeling his appetite dwindling away with ever shared word, but for the sake of his mother he kept eating. Luckily, rations had become so tight, there wasn't much to eat.

After dinner, Helena readied the cake. She hushed the chatter and set it down in front of Gilbert. It was small and empty looking. "Can we sing to you?" She whispered, close to his temple. Ludwig watched on quietly. He had noticed the slight change in expression that crossed Gilbert's face, a habit that he was beginning to notice more and more these days. It was a tight expression, lacking the usual luster he carried so easily. Gilbert nodded and looked at his cake with something that looked much like remorse in the dim lighting.

And then they started singing.

Helena had a voice like bells, which was nicely offset by Peter's husky baritone. Ludwig shrunk down in his chair, singing softly under his breath while he stared ahead. Gilbert's eyes weren't open and whether he noticed it or not his eyebrows were knitting closely together. A note broke in Helena's voice as she too watched her boy slowly fall in defeat to his emotions. But then, the song ended and the room grew quiet.

"T-thanks," Gilbert said shakily with a weak laugh. "But that was really awful, look you guys made me cry it was so bad."

Peter looked away and Gilbert flushed because of it.

* * *

The sun didn't come out till mid April, by then the chill of winter had begun to melt entirely away and small sprigs of new life were beginning to emerge in the empty field he was lying in. It wasn't warm yet, but if he lie still long enough beneath the sun, his skin would start to tingle.

Gilbert spread himself out, emitting a small, lazy moan as he let his mouth go slack and his limbs heavy. "You're a real bastard you know that?"

Gilbert squinted at his visitor, silhouetted against the sunlight, he recognized those crass tones immediately and he smirked despite himself.

"But really," she continued, "you think you can send for me like that? I haven't heard from you all season, what makes you think I'd even _want_ to see you?"

"Because the next time you might see me is in a pine box," he yawned. "And then you'd really feel like shit." A foot nudged him in the ribs and he groaned, then laughed. Gilbert sat up, supported by one hand and raising the other to shield the light from his eyes. "Miss me or somethin'?"

The girl sat down with a huff and a wicked glare, her pale hair shimmering flat against her back in a long plait. "Not a bit. I thought the storm had killed you to be honest. You never came by or anything. Not that I waited or anything," she tacked on thoughtfully.

Her name was Juliana, but Gilbert liked to call her Jules.

They had met last summer at the market; he liked the space between her front teeth and the way her nose crinkled when she laughed at his jokes and before he knew it she had been a nicely kept secret hidden only a ten minutes walk away.

She was a nice girl, and he would miss her.

"Was a rough winter. You couldn't have made me leave my house even if you paid me." Gilbert snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her closer.

"You're a creep, Beilschmidt. Don't touch me." His fingers twisted at her sides gently until she couldn't keep from laughing anymore. They fell against the grass together and she turned, facing him and resting her hand against his chest. "When are you leaving?" Her sweet, smoky voice went soft as she whispered into his shoulder.

"Next month."

"Are you scared?" Gilbert looked down at her. She had small freckles decorating her nose and her blue eyes shone bright against her pale skin. He huffed and looked away.

"My brother asks me that same question every week. What do you think?"

"Sorry, I just..." She turned into his chest instead, nuzzling herself against him. She breathed him in and stared blankly across the field. "So, what now?"

"I don't want you to wait for me." He answered quickly. "That'd be real stupid of you." She snorted and picked her head back up to glare at him, a smirk pulling at her lips.

"And what makes you think I'd even thought about it? You won't want to come back after this anyways, you'll be traveling and falling in love with pretty foreign girls. I know you Beilschmidt, you won't want to stay in one place for too long."

He laughed, rolled her over then positioned himself above her. He dropped to his elbow and kissed her grinning mouth, humming into it, then he kissed her harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her and he followed suit, placing his hand to her cheek in a momentary escape. He pulled away slowly, his forehead against hers and he cursed.

"I'm really gonna miss you Jules."

"I'm going to miss you too. You be safe, alright?"

He kissed her cheek once more before sitting up. "You too, kid." He took a deep breath, looked her over and smiled before standing up. Juliana crossed her arms behind her head and squinted up at him. "I guess this is it then, I probably won't see you around much after this," he said with a small shrug.

"That's it? One kiss and you're gone for good?"

"Have to say goodbye to the rest of my girls!" He laughed as she picked a small stone from the ground and threw it at him. Gilbert broke into a light run in the other direction, looking back once more he gave a small wave goodbye that she only half-heartedly returned. He reached the dirt road and then looked back up towards the sun.

The pleasant feeling that had filled him but moments before left him and the weight of the upcoming year was once again perched on his shoulder like some ravenous bird. Pecking and clawing at him relentlessly. He shook his head, wiping his forehead of the light sweat he seemed to be gathering and moved forward toward the direction of home. He didn't bother looking back, he knew she wouldn't be there. She was never the type to care for too long, and even if he acted coy about it, it almost hurt knowing she had only bothered with him because she knew he was going to be leaving soon.

These kinds of girls, they didn't want anything more but a body to squeeze and a mouth to kiss. And maybe that wasn't so bad. Where he was going, there wouldn't be anymore of that.

* * *

With the weather turning, the days ran together mercilessly. April came and went in a blur and May met them with wildflowers and clear skies.

Ludwig looked out the bedroom window with a distant fondness. He always loved this time of year, when everything was new and fragrant. It was the time of year that Gilbert and him would ride their bikes to the city square, they'd throw coins in the fountains and share sweets together under the tree in the front yard. Helena would bring them cold tea and they'd drink so much their stomach would push out. They would stay up late, listen to the opera's on the radio and then talk until neither could keep their eyes open.

All these things that he had done every year were now being swept away, on this very day. Gilbert was in their mother's room and she was fussing over his clothes. Peter was coming home to take Gilbert into the city, there he would finish the last of his paperwork and board a bus that would take him far away. This year, Ludwig would ride his bike alone. He'd throw coins into the fountain and wish only to see his brother soon. He'd eat half his chocolate and put the other half in the side table drawer for when Gilbert came back. He'd cry himself to sleep instead of sharing stories. The stars wouldn't look the same and the year would only grow empty to him.

Ludwig rubbed at his eyes. He couldn't look any longer at all the things that reminded him of the years before. He didn't want to.

He hadn't noticed the voices stop until the floorboards creaked beneath the weight of Gilbert in the threshold. "It's a nice day out, huh?"

"Sure it is," Ludwig replied, not turning around. He blinked furiously and slapped his hands to his sides suspiciously. "H-how are you doing?" Gilbert shrugged, pulling his bag up higher onto his shoulder.

"You know, mum's being mum and dad's running early. Same shit." He crept in closer, until he was standing behind Ludwig. He laid a hand on the young boy's shoulder and sighed. "I'm gonna miss you, you brat. I don't want to say goodbye but, it's almost time for me to go."

"Is it?" Ludwig's voice cracked and he shut his eyes tighter, his fingers pulled at his pockets and he hung his head slightly.

"You're not gonna get all sappy on me, are ya?" Gilbert laughed, squeezing Ludwig's shoulder slightly. His own voice was tight though and the humor escaped his words completely. When Ludwig didn't reply, Gilbert looked down, his eyebrows pushed together. "I was only kidding, come on, talk to me." Ludwig shook his head and Gilbert nudged him to turn around. "Hey, look at me." His voice lingered on the edge of worried as Ludwig turned to face him.

Ludwig slowly brought his head up. His cheeks were red and his eyes were glossy. With just the slightest blink, Ludwig felt the tears fall to his face. His very establishment was crumbling beneath him.

Gilbert sank to one knee and he let his hands slowly slide down the side of Ludwig's paling visage as he stared at his younger brother. His thumbs brushed away the absent tears and he leaned in close and whispered, "don't you worry about me. I'll be just fine."

"They're taking you away from me," Ludwig choked out. His hands wrapped around his brother's wrist and he tucked his face into the warm cup of Gilbert's palm. "I don't want you to go, you can't, please."

"Look," Gilbert's voice softened, nearly cracking and as Ludwig looked back into his eyes he could see the glimmer of repressed emotion gathering. "I don't want to go either but I have no choice. I'll be back before you know it though. Study hard, stay safe and don't do anything I would do-"

"No, no, please." Ludwig was growing panicked, "you can't leave me Gil, I can't do it." And then the tears broke through, he could no longer withstand it. Broken sobs fell from his mouth freely and his knees were growing weak. Before he could collapse to the floor however, Gilbert wrapped his arms under him and fell onto both knees. Ludwig went limp, sobbing into his brother's shoulder as his hands gripped for anything to keep hold to. He couldn't let them take his brother away, that was all he really had.

"He's here," Helena said softly as she stepped into the doorway. Her voice quaked but she knew she had to be strong for her youngest. "Gilbert, your father won't wait long-"

"No! I don't care about what father thinks, he can't take Gilbert there, he can't let him go to war!"

"Mausi-" Helena hesitantly strode forward and tried to reach out for her son's arm but he only clung tighter onto Gilbert.

"It's alright mum," Gilbert lifted a hand and ran it through Ludwig's hair. "Five minutes more, he can wait." Helena bit her lip but nodded, she left slowly and Gilbert waited until he heard the front door shut behind her. He took a deep breath. "Kid, you can't cry like this."

"And why not? You won't be here any longer..." Another sob cut through him and Gilbert leaned his head in towards his brother's.

"Because, you've got to be strong. For mum, for me. You'll be thirteen soon, a lot's gonna be changing for you and I want to make sure that when I come back you aren't some kind of girly boy. Got that?" He loosened his hold and Ludwig regained some of his lost strength. Gently, Gilbert helped him stand again and when he was sure his brother would hold his own, he stood again. "You'll be rooting for me right?"

"Of course," Ludwig rubbed angrily at his face. "Will you write me?"

"Every chance I get." Gilbert rustled Ludwig's pale blonde hair and smirked. "I promise." His hand lingered for a second before he let it fall. His smile faltered, though it hadn't been genuine in the first place and his eyebrows furrowed. His façade was betraying him. It seemed like he had been standing on the edge of this moment for years, he should have been ready. But maybe, it wasn't realistic to ever find yourself ready to die. It might have looked strange had he not had this hole tearing him apart from the inside out. "...I've gotta go now, Lud. I'm sorry."

Ludwig then lunged forward, wrapping his arms tight around his brother. He squeezed so tight and his fingers dug into Gilbert's jacket in a way that would make the fabric stretch. But it didn't matter. "Let me walk out with you, please."

The older boy hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't want Ludwig to be there but he really didn't want to cry in front of his father, like he felt he might. Ludwig loosened his grip and looked upwards and then, Gilbert couldn't deny him. "I don't want to see you cry though, got it?"

"I'll try." Ludwig slipped away and with his head down, walked besides his brother as they passed through the house. Gilbert felt a strange sensation sweeping through him as his eyes lingered on every corner, crack and wall of the home he had grown up in. And he suddenly felt like a stranger walking there, as if every moment shared in that house was seemingly slipping from him. But the whole time, he held his head up high, pulling his face into an unreadable mask.

They stepped into the sunlight. It was bright and warm and inviting, like a cruel joke. Helena and Peter stood by the car, both of them wearing tight looks that only made Gilbert's chest ache. Helena placed her hand on Peter's shoulder, hugged him for a moment and then came towards her boys. She stopped in front of Gilbert first, staring at him with a slight smile on her face, though it was obvious she was fighting very hard to stay composed. Her soft hands came up, brushed his cheeks and then fell to his shoulders. "Stay as safe as you can, I love you, and we'll all be waiting for you when you come back." She leaned in and laid a small kiss on his cheek. He murmured something but it was lost and he looked away instead. Helena shrank back and then looked down towards Ludwig. His eyes were glossy. "Mausi, come." She held out her hand and slowly, Ludwig laid his in her palm. But still he could look nowhere else but towards his brother.

Fearing that idling by would only make things worse, Gilbert cast one last look towards his mother and brother before nodding and then striding over to the car. "I'll be back before dinner," Peter called out. "Watch him," he cast a quick stern look at Ludwig before getting in the car. Gilbert unwillingly followed suit.

For a small second, Ludwig thought that he could keep himself composed. Do his brother proud and not cry, stay strong. But the moment the car hit reverse, something deep within him shattered and he let out a loud, forlorn cry. Before Helena could respond, Ludwig's hand was torn from hers and he took off running towards the car. From the window, Ludwig could see Gilbert watching, staring with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, saying something far beyond what Ludwig could understand. And as the car picked up pace down the road, Ludwig only forced himself farther, reaching out towards what he knew was not going to wait for him. But nonetheless, he tried. "No, no, no! Please, don't let him go! Papa! Please!"

He was halfway down the street, the car was nearly out of view and blinded by his own tears, he hardly saw the stone that broke his stride. Ludwig fell to the ground with a lurch. His hands caught him but immediately began to bleed. The boy, on his hands and knees, was stricken with such despair he could barely find the proper reaction. He was hurt. He could feel his knees bleeding and stinging, riddled with dirt from the road, but he couldn't cry over that. Not when his brother was leaving for war, no, it seemed inappropriate. He heard Helena calling his name, running towards him, but none of that mattered. His hand curled into a fist and he beat it suddenly against the ground. "Why did you let him leave?!" He screamed out, "you're letting them kill him, why would you let him go?!" He cried harder still. "Don't you even care?!"

"Ludwig, are you alright, ah, no, you're bleeding. Come here," Helena bent down in the dirt, trying hard to take the struggling child to her arms. But he only pulled away from her.

"I don't care! I don't care about any of that! You've taken my brother from me!"

Her hands slowly withdrew and she laid them in her lap. Helena looked up towards the now empty road, as if she was suddenly feeling the vacant space in her heart where Gilbert's presence once resided. "I-I'm so sorry. I didn't-" and then, as Ludwig gave in completely, she bowed her head and she wept with him.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for having so much patience with me! You guys are all so nice, I promise not to make you wait another month for chapter six.

Also, I don't speak German but I try really hard to put a lot of research into anything I attempt to type out (this goes for regions, historical timelines, occurrences, distances, etc...) so if you find any mistakes in anything I'm writing, please tell me. I do a lot of research before each chapter but I wouldn't be surprised if I missed something important or typed something wrong. In this case, the whole "Allet Jute ooch zum Jeburtstach" thing was meant to be a regional way of saying happy birthday, in the Berlinisch dialect. Considering the area the town of Bernau bei Berlin is located, I thought it would be appropriate. Please, please, please correct me if I'm wrong about anything.


	6. Kapitel Sechs

**Kapitel Sechs.**

* * *

May 1940.

Peter Beilschmidt wore the title of father much like one dons a casual coat. Loose and taken off when the room grew too hot.

He always told himself he'd be a good father to his own children when the time came. His own abandoned the family not even before the boy turned four and his stepfather had been a wicked man with a taste for vodka. So it wasn't like he had a lot to live up to. And for a long while, he thought he'd done a pretty good job in raising his boys.

He was thrilled when Gilbert was born. He turned away from Helena, holding his first son in his arms and looking down at the tiny hand that reached upwards towards him, and then he cried. He had never felt like this towards anything in his life. He had never loved something so much. And Peter couldn't understand how his own father had left them, how he couldn't love like Peter could. Helena named Gilbert after her father and Peter took him home, hardly letting his eyes wander away from that sweet, chubby face.

He felt the same, if not even more inclined to weep with joy when Ludwig came but five years later.

_His boys._ He wouldn't ever ask for anything ever again. God had given him all that he wanted.

And though the years passed and Peter settled into routine and middle aged mannerisms, he never once stopped loving his boys. There were times he'd think about the past and he'd shake his head, regretting the actions and choices he'd made but he knew it couldn't be helped. He tried to be a good father, but he was only human. These kind of reassuring thoughts helped him settle into bed at night but still he knew, his boys were drifting away from him. The respect, the love, and the faith they once had in him was dwindling away with each passing day.

Peter knew he'd have to do something to fix this, without giving himself away. Because even though he wanted his children to understand the feelings he had, he still understood that he was the head of the household and would hate to start feeling like any less of a man for it.

So Peter did what he could. Even if it was only a temporary fix to a much bigger picture.

Having served in his own war, Peter had connections with prior friends and colleagues that he was for once going to claim. It wasn't a well known fact to his family, but he had never actually taken to the front lines of the Great War of 1914. Peter spent the two and half years he'd been involved holed up in a small office just south of the Austrian border, keeping records. He had heard bombs in the distance and seen lives taken before his eyes, but he had never held a gun to fight or defend.

For this he felt a flurry of guilt. He gave Gilbert a lot of grief about pride, but to him, he saw it as the boy's advantage. He would grow strong, stronger than Peter ever could have. And maybe one day he'd thank him for it. But for the time being, at least just for a small while, Peter wanted to give Gilbert a small slip.

He called up a friend who resided in Berlin, pulled a few strings and secured Gilbert a temporary position in a government office. No guns. No blood. And if the war went smoothly, with some luck, he'd evade any possible warfare. It was the least Peter sought to do and when he told Gilbert before dropping him off, he made sure to hug him tight and wish him luck along the way.

But it didn't last long.

The war escalated quickly and the government began pulling from any corner they could. It was then, only after a half month of secretary work in Berlin, was Gilbert called to report for duty to invade Denmark.

He was shipped out in only a week before the first major air raids hit the city of Mönchengladbach. The world began moving at a faster pace then and the sudden realization that war was coming home sank in. Gilbert would write small letters when he could, short scribble that when Ludwig did receive them in the mail, were mostly censored black bars. They hardly made up for his brother's absence but he kept them tucked under his pillow regardless.

When the month ended and June came fluttering round the corner, Gilbert left Denmark for good. He was shipped to Silesia where he continued to work. Part time office work and part time ground work, or as he described to Ludwig, grunt work that was so exhausting he would never complain about housework again.

Ludwig read all these patchy letters over and over again, life was finally regaining some normalcy and Ludwig's new routine was becoming almost comfortable. It scared him at first when he had heard that Gilbert was leaving to Denmark, but from what he managed to read in the letters, firing a gun wasn't too bad and most of the people were really nice to him. He tried Danish breads (which were sweeter and softer than the bread they had back home, he told Ludwig) and even got his helmet kissed by a pretty girl. He wrote in hurried handwriting that the days weren't too long and every day that went by he was one step closer to coming home for good.

And Ludwig believed him.

Nothing had reached their city yet, rations were still tight and lights were still to be off by sundown, but things hadn't changed much. The bombing in Mönchengladbach had startled him for a while but the world around him seemed to quiet down after that. It wasn't until late August of that same year did he understand that everything before this point had only been the very tip of what would prove to be a very threatening iceberg.

Ludwig sat upright in bed, his feet making small hills beneath his blanket, it warped the spills of moonlight that came in from his open window. It was a quiet night, insects brushed their wings beneath his window sill and he listened, feeling a fleeting sense of security from the sound. If they carried on so carelessly, so could he. With a small sigh from parted lips, he leaned against the wall behind him, it was frigid against the bare skin of his back but it felt good against the night sweat that came so automatically when he found himself unable to sleep.

The house was even more still than the air outside. His mother and father slept soundly at night, a feat to him that seemed next to impossible considering the circumstances. Peter was pressed tightly against the thinning small of Helena's back, his hands around her in a position they hadn't fallen asleep in since the night of their wedding.

Then sirens broke a wake through the air.

It ripped through the town like a nightmare and Ludwig pushed himself from his bed, his legs bounced painfully against the floor but he forced himself up. His voice, thin and afraid, called out to his parents as he clambered down the hall. He forced their door open, eyes wide and wet.

"Hurry, hurry" Peter said, his voice drowned out by the sound of mechanical wailing. "Leave that here," he said to Helena as she groped around in the darkness for her shoes. "You know the routine."

Ludwig found his mother's hand and they ran through the house, pushing out the front door. The grass was soft and warm against Ludwig's bare feet, the mountains were a silver backdrop against the black starlit sky. He wished he could have looked a second longer at the sight before he was scraping knees against the ladder into the bomb shelter. Peter closed them in and the room was doused in a dense darkness that Ludwig still hadn't gotten used to. The lamps were lit and he sat down next to his mother. She ran her fingers through his pale hair and whispered to him tiredly about birds that nestled down in summer and flew away come winter. Peter's eyes were shut as he leaned against the ladder until a muffled sound in the distance fluttered them back open.

"What is that sound?" Helena whispered, cutting herself off and looking urgently up at her husband.

Ludwig stilled, his fingers tightened around his thin pants and he craned his neck to hear better. It was a soft thud that beat like a slow drum or a thunderstorm lost in-between the valley in the mountains. "Are those...bombs?" Ludwig's voice broke, he cleared his throat and then looked at his mother.

"They're hitting Berlin," Peter replied coldly. His body was stiff with worry. "Stay quiet."

And so they did. Helena kept her eyes tightly shut, her arms around her child like he was going to run at any second. But Ludwig was far from moving, he was awestruck with the sound and it charmed him for a moment before it left entirely, it had been quick. The air once more grew still and silent and when Helena turned her head up, Peter held out a finger.

"Pull out the cots Lena, we'll bunk here for the night."

But Ludwig couldn't sleep, he was limp and helpless against the feeling that overcame him. His heart beat against his chest in a rhythm like falling bombs, he willed it to stop but it didn't and he grew bleary eyed in the slow passing darkness. At some point he faded off, but only for a short while as he was woken by the piercing break of daylight as Peter opened the hatch door.

The day was bright and blue, birds chirped innocently and the leaves on the trees rattled softly against the pull of the autumn breeze. It was like any other day, and yet, it wasn't. A strange air settled over them and when Ludwig forced himself up the ladder, his heart sank to realize that unsettling aura was all for good reason. The sky seven miles southwest of where he stood was dark and dreary, a thinning layer of smoke was rising up like charcoal spires against the cerulean backdrop. "Get in the house," his father said quietly. Ludwig tore his eyes away reluctantly and walked back with his head down.

He didn't want to look any longer.

* * *

September crept in and air raids struck Berlin almost twenty times, and each time remained the same, that distant beat that stayed with him day after day. People were getting killed, homes destroyed and the sky seemed to have this permanent halo of smoke day and night. But things were starting to change in ways Ludwig hadn't anticipated, and such came the announcement of the KLV evacuation plan.

The blonde boy walked briskly home from school, the crumpled paper was held tight to his chest and his breath was harsh in the chilled weather. He stepped through his front door, slipped from his boots and then rushed to his mother's room. She was in an old armchair, a worn book resting in one hand. She took one look at Ludwig's pale visage and she shut her book. "Mausi, what's wrong? What is that?" She held her hand out for the paper.

"They're going to make me leave, aren't they?"

She slowly shook her head and then leaned forward to take the paper from him. She read it over twice before laying it in her lap. Taking a brief moment to herself, she tapped her fingers. The paper read that all children below the age of fourteen living in threatened cities were to be eligible for a six month holiday in the rural areas of the Reich and that those below the age of ten were to be placed with families who fit the criteria. It would begin at the start of October. But she could read between the lines easily. There wasn't enough food for the children and the bombings were steadily increasing. It would be the Berliners first, but Bernau was only six miles northeast of the city, they'd be next. Six months could extend to however long the war waged and the areas in the Reich would have put Ludwig right in the middle of the Nazi ideologies she worked hard to undo. She clenched the paper in her hand and shook it. "Your father can't see this. You can't tell him. Ludwig, do you understand?"

"But why?"

"Because, listen to me, he simply can't. Promise me you won't say anything."

"But-"

"Promise me!"

He bit his lip but slowly nodded. Helena stood up and tucked the paper away into the top drawer on her vanity. She glanced over her shoulder and nodded. "Go do you homework while it's still light outside." When he left the room Helena stole to the desk in the corner, she pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and hunched over with shaking hands, she wrote a frantic plea to someone she hadn't spoken to since Ludwig had been born. The man who Gilbert had been named after, her dearest father Gisilbert.

After that, day by day Ludwig noticed less and less of his schoolmates coming into class. Sometimes a teacher would disappear too and no one ever said anything about it. The school days were gray and quiet, and home life wasn't much better. Bombs continued to fall and people continued to die, the war was endless and letters from his brother had grown sparser and sparser with the passing weeks. Though this didn't stop Ludwig from writing at every chance he got, even while knowing the chances of getting a reply were slim.

He told him of the bombings, about how it sounded from the depths of the cellar and how the morning after the whole world seemed to smell like gunpowder and rot. He wondered if that was what death smelled like. He spoke of their mother often, hardly ever their father and of all the countless ways Ludwig missed Gilbert. He mentioned the evacuations, how we was scared he'd be sent away from everyone, but maybe, if he was lucky, he'd be sent somewhere close to Silesia, near Gilbert. He mentioned that his birthday was in two days and even though he knew it would go forgotten, he'd still wish that the war would end and everything would go back to how it was.

Then he cried. He did a lot of that these days.

When the third came, and passed, Ludwig began to move automatically, tense and machine like. It was any day now that they'd come and take him away, he'd already heard the stories of the Berliner children being sent away on trains. They'd wave their Nazi flags and people cheered, all the girls and boys dressed up for holiday. He sat at his desk, head bent against his palm as he stared out the window. It was a windy day and he could have sworn he saw ash being carried through the air. A knock on the door disrupted the silence and each child turned to see who had done it. Their teacher, an older man who wore glasses too large for his face, nodded and murmured to someone on the other side of the door crack. He turned and made momentary eye contact with Ludwig and then he closed the door.

"Beilschmidt?"

"Yes sir?"

"Your mother is here, get your things, she's waiting for you by the office."

A turn of his stomach, a breath stuck in his throat. Ludwig bent down, shoved his belongings deep into his small bag and then, with every eye on him, he left the room. Helena was pacing the hall, her face was pale and growing thinner by the week, her hair was dull and disheveled. When she caught sight of Ludwig she fell forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You know I love you, don't you?" She whispered into his neck.

"Mama? What's going on, why are you here?"

"I need you to do something for me," she pulled away and searched his eyes desperately. Before he could answer though she stepped back and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, guiding him out the front doors. "Come on, we need to hurry."

"For what?" She didn't answer as she ushered him to the car. "Where's father? I thought he worked today?"

"He is at work," she said in hushed tones. She closed the door behind him and she rushed to the other side of the car. When she sat down she wasted no time in starting the engine and throwing it into reverse. "I took him there. I told him I had to go into the city for supplies." Her voice dropped and she began muttering, she looked frantic, crazed. It made Ludwig nervous and almost angry.

"What is wrong with you? Why aren't you telling me anything and where are we going?!" She veered quickly towards the left, switching lanes. Ludwig clutched his bag to his chest and threw a glance to the backseat. There was a packed bag, one of Peter's old suitcases. "A-are we going somewhere?" He asked hesitantly.

"Mausi, you _must _know I love you, don't you?"

His cold eyes focused on her face. She wasn't in the right mind, she was all nerves and no thought. Suddenly things felt distant, as if this weren't his life but a movie reel. It was grainy and flickering, flashes of dark swept over the cityscape that flew past the window. The only soundtrack was the sound of gravel beneath speeding rubber, a breath every now and then taken out of desperation and the soft click of his buckled shoes against each other when a bump in the road appeared. "Where am I going?" He asked softly.

He knew this road. It led right to the train station.

Helena said nothing, her eyes grew glossy and her lip was tucked between her teeth, grimacing ivories smudged with day old lipstick. She sniffed, held the back of her hand to her face and released a broken sob. "I'm so sorry Ludwig. I had no other choice." Ludwig looked ahead of him, he felt nothing but a strange hollowness become him. "Your grandfather will have received my letter by now, but please, you have to understand. I'm doing this for you. I couldn't let them send you to camp, I couldn't let them take the only child I had left and destroy him too." She hiccuped and whined and her cheeks were wet, and yet, Ludwig couldn't find it in him to comfort her.

"I've never even met this man."

"He'll be good to you, as soon as this war ends I'll come get you, but I couldn't waste another second. It was now or never, don't you understand, they would have ruined you!"

"And father?"

Helena tapped her hand against the steering wheel guiltily. "He'll forgive me eventually. He never would have let you go, he would have rather you shipped off to join your brother at the next chance he got." Ludwig stayed quiet. "I packed you as much as I could, they only allow one case per passenger, you have clothes and a few books and-"

"My letters!" Ludwig straightened up, he reached out to clutch at the dashboard, frantic. "We need to go back, you've forgotten my letters!"

Helena slipped a hand to rest on his knee. "The ones beneath your pillow?" He stared and she forced a weak smile. "I see you reading them at night, I wouldn't forget them."

"And Gil? How will he write me?"

"I will send whatever letters I get straight to you, he can't know where you're going. We can't risk them finding out what we're doing, I'm sorry." He sank back, his head hurt.

They drove the rest of the way with nothing but the purr of the engine to break the silence. He wasn't angry, he knew his mother was risking everything she had to send him out of harm's way, but his nerves were tangled and he felt a creeping sickness in his gut. When the station pulled into sight, he could hardly force himself to stand from the car. Helena took his case, forced the few school supplies into it and then wrapped her arm back around his shoulder.

She pushed her way past the always crowded entry and then tucked Ludwig behind her as she stood at the ticket booth. A man in military garb nodded to her and she leaned in so that Ludwig could barely hear her. "May I speak to a Mr. Holst?" He gave another prompt nod before exiting through a side door, but a few seconds later an older man stepped through. He too was dressed in a stiff military uniform.

"What is it?"

"We spoke on the phone, Bathilda Fischer?"

"Oh, you." Holst walked a few steps to the left and held open the side door. "This way." He led them through the same door he had appeared out of, an old storage room that was smoky and full of chatter from the six or so soldiers stationed there. They laughed a bit and made a few remarks but Ludwig tried hard to not make eye contact. "You've brought the money?" Holst asked as they continued walking through a second door that led to another room, only two men sat at the tables, both engrossed in a card game.

"Yes, all of what you asked." Helena reached into her pocket and pulled a small clip, she quickly counted the notes and laid them flat on the table nearest them. "And the checkpoints?"

"He'll ride with the cargo," Holst replied roughly. He took the notes from the table, counted and then nodded, placing them into his breast pocket. "He'll be let out at the Wesermarsch station, then he's on his own. Got that boy?"

Ludwig matched his stare. "Yes, sir."

"Get your bag and come with me then." Helena handed him the case and when it was out of her hands, she threw her arms around his neck and rushed her slender hands through his pale hair.

"I love you, I'll write as soon as I can. Don't be scared," she whispered before giving him a small kiss on the edge of his ear. She pulled back and her eyes pooled up again. Ludwig didn't want to remember her like this.

"Kohl, escort this woman out of here. Boy, come on." Holst spoke indifferently. He had better things to be doing than stowing away a young boy. But money was hard to come by those days and often times bribes spoke louder than orders. Ludwig spared a few glances over his shoulder until his mother was no longer in view and then he kept half a pace behind Holst, his case knocking against his knees. They stepped through a hallway and eventually to the platform where passengers lined up to catch the train he assumed was his too. Though they kept moving, through another military barred entrance and through the maintenance quarters until they were standing next to the same train, only this area was empty and cold and Ludwig was already shivering. Holst knocked against the cargo hatch and a man wearing a worker's uniform scurried over. "Just this one today, he'll be getting off in Wesermarsch. Don't forget this time, understood?"

The worker eyed Ludwig coldly before nodding and unlocking the cargo entrance. It was pitch black inside, a cold steely room that smelled like mold and smoke. Ludwig turned suddenly towards Holst and bowed his head slightly. "Thank you."

The soldier gave a small humorless smile and then turned away. "Watch out for the mice, they get hungry." And with that, he left. Leaving Ludwig no choice but to climb inside the half empty space.

Once he was inside, he turned to ask when the train would be leaving, but the door was shut in his face and he was left alone in total darkness.

* * *

**A/N:** Remember when I said I wouldn't make you wait an entire month before updating? Well, I lied. I'm sorry. I won't even attempt to make another promise like that again.

Also, when I started this story, I wanted it to be exactly that. A story. So it's a little slow to start off with, but it's necessary to build up to the later chapters. Don't worry, we'll be bumping up to present time really soon. And thank you to everyone who decides to read and/or review this mess. It means a lot guys.

Annnnd (last note I swear) for any other Supernatural fans up to date on the series, after tonight's finale, feel free to message me if you want to cry because chances are, I'll be crying too.


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